


Because the Car is Sentient

by SkywardGeek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: All The Tropes, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because of Reasons, Bullying, But also, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Drowning Attempt, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Friends to Crushes to Love, I'll fight you over house placements, Kinda, M/M, Miscommunication, Multi, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Binary Tony Stark, OT3, Polyamory, Rhodey Is a Good Bro, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Build, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2018-12-08 16:37:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 85,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkywardGeek/pseuds/SkywardGeek
Summary: Transparent friends, Jocks, Bullies, days feeling twice as long with everything you have to get done.Just a normal secondary school experience, right?





	1. Nighttime Essays and Bathroom Friends

#  ****Chapter**** ** **One - Nighttime Essays and Bathroom Friends****

The radio was playing softly in the background, some new band reached top of the charts. What were they called again? Misplaced Essence? Desperate Blur? Swish and Flick? Tony pondered for a moment more before mentally shrugging. It didn’t overly matter. The song playing was just maudlin enough that he left it on. It was close to midnight and the only source of light was coming from the flickering candle on the desk next to him. It cast long shadows across the floor and up the wall. He pushed his finished Arithmancy essay away from him, pulling the Muggle Studies exercise closer.

_Muggles have learnt to travel without the use of magical means. Describe and explain three methods of muggle transport, paying particular attention to how each mode of transportation functions._

This was going to be a long night. He explained flight, and the use of air resistance and pressure on the wings. The aluminium oxide shell. The internal engines. Cars were next, internal combustion engine. Burning of fuel. Bicycle and standard man power. Etcetera. Once that essay was finally complete, he pulled the transfiguration work forward. Pulling out his wand he easily turned the small mouse plush into an actual mouse. He decided to name it Squeakers. Hey, no one said he was imaginative with names. Footsteps echoed down the corridor outside, along with dark chuckles. Silently Tony huffed out his candle, flicked his wand to silence the radio, and gathered his papers and textbooks in the dark. Shoving them roughly into his schoolbag, a canvas messenger bag he purchased from Hogsmeade when his last bag was mysteriously thrown into the lake, he tucked himself in the corner of the room just behind the door. He made it just in time too. The door swung open, three figures walking into the dark room. Their faces looked expectant, glowing silver in the moonlight. Tony crept out of the door, not making a sound as he hastened down the corridor. He could have sworn he heard Hammer bite out “I saw light in here, check the room.”

As soon as he was out of their earshot he broke into a run, bag swinging against his hip and thighs. He skidded across the marble floors and jumped the stairs several at a time. But of course, his luck sucked. The staircase shifted when he was feet from the floor he needed. It spun and lowered, sending him to the first floor. And he could see wand light above him. Barely having a chance to jump off the staircase before he heard shouts of “there he goes!” He peeled down the corridor, pushing open a door and closing it swiftly behind him.

“Hi Tony,” a soft voice called.

Tony grinned as his friend greeted him softly, “Hi Myrtle. How’s things?”

She smiled a little, readjusting her glasses as she beamed at him. Forgoing an answer, she simply asked her own question.

“One of those nights?”

Tony sighed and moved to perch on a sink. He scuffed his foot back and forth across the tiles, ignoring the taps digging into his back. He nodded and pulled out his wand and a book. Least he could do is study ancient runes while he waited for the usual crew to disappear. Reason number one for hating sharing a dorm room with Justin Hammer: he always knew when Tony was out of bed. Tony pulled a flask of strong coffee from his bag and poured a cup. He held the cup up and allowed Myrtle to float through it for a taste. She smiled in thanks and settled on the sink next to him. She peered curiously over his shoulder. When she saw the ancient runes she slumped back against the mirror.

“You could take more interesting classes,” she moaned quietly.

Tony rolled his eyes at her, “I take every class. But what one do you want to read?”

“Muggle Studies,” Myrtle answered instantly, eyes lighting up.

Tony smiled indulgingly and pulled out the Muggle Studies book. It detailed everything from Computers to Newspapers to Culture. Myrtle loved hearing about it. Tony guessed she missed her connection with the muggle world. He thought she would have hated him, what with him being pure blood and all, but that first time he skidded in and pressed his back to the door as he listened to raging feet stampede outside, she had simply watched and kept quiet.

 

_Tony’s hands were shaking and he cursed himself a little. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice._

_“You know this is a girls’ bathroom, right?”_

_He shook his head, but once his breath had caught up with him, he finally had the mental ability to take in his surroundings. White marble was covered it what was easily decades old grime. No one had cleaned for a while. The floor was damp, and several mirrors were chipped or cracked. Hovering above the sink was a translucent girl, hair pulled into pigtails. Her fringe just touched the rim of her round glasses. She swayed back and forth as she took in the eleven year old in front of her._

_“I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”_

_Tony ducked his head, still listening to the cries outside the door._

_“We’ll pound that pureblood to a pulp,” came Fisk’s deep booming voice._

_The ghost cocked her head, listening to the violent threats on the other side of the door. She floated past Tony and disappeared through the door. He had no idea what she did but fearful screams soon followed and the sound of fleeing footsteps made Tony chuckle. She floated back through the door, right through Tony. He shuddered as the feeling of numbing cold flooded him._

_“They were bullying you.”_ __  
_ _

_More of a statement than a question but Tony nodded nonetheless. She smiled grimly._

_“My name’s Myrtle. Myrtle Warren. What’s yours?”_

_“Tony, Tony Stark.”_

_Myrtle held out her hand to shake and Tony moved to grip it. His hand went straight through, Myrtle cackling in amusement. Tony grinned back at her but glanced at his watch. He would be late to Potions if he didn’t hurry._

_“I’ve got to run,” he muttered forlornly._

_She was the first person to treat him with any semblance of friendliness and he would be sad to leave her behind._

_“Will you come visit?” She asked, trying to mask her excitement with disinterested indifference._

_“It’s a girls’ bathroom.”_

_“No one comes here.”_

_“Why not?” Tony asked curiously._

_The girl – Myrtle, he reminded himself – grinned. And it was a grin that spoke of mischief._

_“Moaning Myrtle.”_ __  
_ _

_Tony matched the evil little smile, “You got it. I’ll come visit whenever I can.”_

 

And soon they became set into a little routine. Tony would visit his perpetually fourteen year old friend most nights. He had to cut the visits down a little after third year when he took up every subject Hogwarts offered. He was so glad his mother gave him her time turner. He was so buried in homework that nights like tonight weren’t uncommon. He’d skip dinner, find an abandoned classroom far away from the Great Hall and work his way through the night. Usually around three a.m. he’d call it a night and visit Myrtle for half an hour or so. If he went long enough without visiting Myrtle took it upon herself to… remind him. The most notorious reminder was when he was in the shower and she whispered “boo” in his ear. It took him weeks to stop bringing his wand into the showers with him. Of course the memory still made Myrtle giggle. He’d stayed later than he’d intended to tonight but Myrtle was enjoying the textbook and he couldn’t begrudge her that. He dozed off for a bit. But was rudely awakened by a sensation of someone putting ice cubes down his neck. He jumped up and realised it had been Myrtle trying to shake him awake.

“Come on, you have Transfiguration and Alchemy now. Which are you going to first?”

“Transfig,” Tony yawned, stretching his neck until he heard a click.

He grabbed his bag and was out the door, waving a goodbye to his friend.

 

He was five minutes late to class. The teacher, Professor… he really sucked with names. She’d taught him for six years and he still couldn’t remember. But she chewed him out for his tardiness and then let him sit down. He sunk into his seat next to… blond and plays Quidditch. He could get this. Rogers. Captain Rogers, played Keeper for Gryffindor. Steve, that was it. And no it didn’t take Tony a glance at Steve’s essay to get his first name (it totally did). He pulled Squeakers out of his bag, cage and all, to present to the professor. He flicked open the cage with his thumb, allowing Squeakers to climb onto his palm and up his arm. Squeakers perched on his shoulder, curling up and falling asleep. Steve gave Squeakers a look of disdain, and pulled out his own work. A small black rat. He needed practise. Squeakers was perfect, a small light grey fuzzy mouse. The teacher’s tone was droning and Tony felt his eyelids drooping. He couldn’t help it. The teacher taught straight from the textbook which Tony had already read three times by the time the Hogwarts express had pulled into the station on their journey to school. Plus he had all of thirty minutes sleep last night, and only a combined five hours in the week preceding. Stupid Hammer, alerting Killian and Fisk. He pillowed his head in his arms and fell into a doze.

 

Steve looked at the boy in very evident disgust. He was late, and now he was asleep. Just because he was pureblood, did he think he was better than everybody? Steve rolled his eyes, and began working through the textbook. He ignored the projectiles that seemed to be being thrown at the classmate next to him. Balls of paper, the odd frog’s eye. Steve assumed it was somebody trying to wake the idiot up. He heard snickers behind him and shushed Brock and Ivan behind him. They tried to keep a straight face at Steve but as soon as he turned back a toad’s foot landed in Tony’s hair. He turned to his book and began trying to figure out where he went wrong on his homework. Class was dull and the minutes seemed to tick by slower than normal. Steve managed to turn his rat into a mouse, but he still couldn’t make the fur the right colour. Right at the end of the lesson, Tony woke with a jolt that dislodged the toad’s foot. It fell with a wet thump on the wooden floor.

“How nice of you to join us Mister Stark,” came the droll response from Professor Darkholme.

Tony didn’t even seem phased, “It takes a lot of beauty sleep for this masterpiece Professor.”

“Is everything a joke to you, Stark?” Steve hissed under his breath as the Professor looked on, unimpressed.

“Funny things are,” Tony replied with a smirk, “Blueberry?” he offered the pack to Steve.

It was all the Gryffindor could do, not to knock that pack of fruit from the boy’s hand. How he could sleep through lessons and still maintain straight O’s Steve would never know.

“Oi Steve,” Bucky yelled as he poked his head round the door, “We’re going to the lake.”

“Mister Barnes, if you could kindly  _ _not__  interrupt my class,” the Professor scolded.

At least Bucky had the decency to look sheepish. Class finished swiftly, mainly due to Bucky’s pestering presence at the back of the room. Steve walked down to the lake with Bucky, his yellow and black robes having seen better days. Not that Steve’s red and black were better, more stitching and patches than actual cloth. Taking their favourite spot under a tree, they enjoyed the last warmth the autumn weather had to offer. Soon Natasha and Clint joined them on their free period. Natasha sat down gracefully, Slytherin robes pooling at her feet, while Clint began climbing the tree. Once he found a suitable perch he swung upside down.

“What do you think of that Stark kid?” Clint asked out of the blue.

“He’s an asshole,” Bucky immediately growled.

“He’s not so bad,” Natasha commented idly, “he helps me with potion work from time to time. And Pepper likes him.”

“What is it with Slytherin and killer red heads?” Bucky jibed.

“We stain our hair with the blood of those who stand in our way,” Natasha replied without looking up from her essay she was finishing. Her tone was flat and impossible to read. For all they knew she was lying.

“Steve, what do you think?” Clint asked, twisting in the tree to face the Gryffindor.

“I think we should never turn our backs on the red heads.”

Natasha grinned at him, with a gleam in her eyes that spoke of pain soon to come. Clint did a somersault as he dropped down next to her, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he did so. He peered over her shoulder at her answers and began copying them into his own essay.

“No I meant about Stark.”

“Lazy, arrogant, pompous.”

Natasha just raised her eyebrows at him. It was rare to see Steve say a bad word against anyone, let alone someone who had actually done him no harm.

“I dunno, he seems alright to me,” Clint shrugged, “I mean look at him. Completely harmless.”

They followed Clint’s gaze to where Tony was lying fast asleep, half under a bush some ten, fifteen feet away. Easily within earshot. Steve muttered another comment about him being lazy and continued plotting out plays for his Quidditch team. Not five minutes later, Tony jolted awake with a wild look in his eyes. He scanned the area and settled quickly after. But he still got to his feet at a fast pace and began walking briskly away, fiddling with something around his neck.

“Be right back,” Natasha muttered and disappeared in the next moment.

She reappeared on Tony’s left side, Clint bracketing his right.

“Do you ever get the feeling they know something we don’t?” Steve asked his lifetime friend.

“All the time, I learned to tune it out,” Bucky replied, closing his eyes against the sun.

 

By the time he heard Clint’s footsteps, Natasha was already at his side. They both looked at him with worry and something like pity. Sympathy maybe.

“You are burning yourself out Stark,” Natasha said softly.

Tony’s eyes turned dark, his easy-going façade cracking instantly, “Like you care.”

“I do, so does Clint. Pepper worries about you, and I know Rhodes does too.”

His eyes were still smoldering like burning coals but his shoulders slumped in defeat, “there’s nothing they can do. Nothing any of you can do.”

“We can protect you,” Clint offered.

“And what about in my dorm? Hammer just lets them in. There isn’t anywhere I’d be safe.”

“None of them are Hufflepuffs,” Clint offered.

“Barnes is. And you heard him. I’m an asshole,” the people at his sides flinched.

“You heard that?”

“Well he wasn’t exactly quiet.”

Clint scuffed his foot back and forth, hands sunk deep into his robe’s pockets.

“Look Tony, I just feel bad. It’s my fault, I announced your blood status to the Great Hall.”

Tony waved off the apology, feeling Clint deflate next to him, “would have got out sooner or later,” he said casually, “not your fault. And let’s face it. I don’t exactly hide it.”

“But-“

“No Clint. Why should I be ashamed of who I am? Not every pureblood is affiliated to he-who-must-not-be-named. The Weasley’s helped bring him down for fucks sake. But now I’m persecuted just like the muggle-borns. And no one seems to see the irony but me. You don’t get it.”

But Clint was getting desperate, the quiet guilt eating at him. He was the cause of Tony’s bullying problem, and he was going to kill himself if that’s what it took to find a solution.

“Banner told us you haven’t slept in the dorm in over three weeks.”

“Would you if you shared with Hammer?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

Both shook their heads as they followed Tony up the lawn. They made it to the castle steps before he stopped. He was one step above them, turned to face them both.

“Look, I know what I’m doing seems crazy but it works.”

“Yes, because taking every possible class and extra-curricular activity this school offers and working yourself to exhaustion that makes you fall asleep in class seems like it is  _ _definitely__  working,” came Natasha’s sardonic reply.

“Yep, it’s working. And you don’t know about that remember?”

Natasha nodded. There was an unspoken agreement, reinforced by a frankly terrifying Pepper, that the three of them did not discuss Tony’s workload.

“T-T-F-N guys.”

Tony’s cheerful farewell was all they were left with before he was gone, a swing of his messenger bag all he left in his wake.

“Well that could have gone better,” Clint sighed.

“He’s never going to open up to us if we keep harassing him. We aren’t his friends. He certainly doesn’t consider us as friends. Just because we know, doesn’t mean we get to lecture him.”

“I want to be his friend,” Clint sulked.

Natasha ruffled his hair with a fond grin, “I know you do, you damn Hufflepuff.”

 

Although from there things only got worse for Tony. Fisk had found him hidden in one of the dungeons just before dinner. And well… Tony had a bloody nose, a severely bruised abdomen, and a lot of difficulty walking after that incursion. He staggered to his usual first floor girls’ bathroom, casting a quick look down the corridor to make sure it was indeed empty. He opened the door and slid in with silent practiced ease. Myrtle floated over and quickly took in the damage.

“Again?”

“Again,” Tony confirmed.

He slid down the wall and sunk to the floor, allowing the cold of the tiles to soak into him and numb the pain. Myrtle reached a hand through his body, the shocking cold halting his breath and easing the pain.

“Have you ever told anyone?” she asked, hovering cross legged in front of him.

Tony shook his head, the motion making the room spin. With a groan he tilted his head back against the wall, breathing deep until he felt less dizzy.

“No, I never told anyone. But Thing One and Thing Two know, and I think Pepper and Rhodey know too. No one else though.”

Myrtle moved to stroke his arm sympathetically but halted herself with a bitter chuckle.

“Sorry, I forget I’m dead sometimes,” she said with a wry grin.

Tony nodded, acknowledgement that he heard more than anything else. He still felt like he was about to throw up, and he had to miss dinner again. That was the… eighteenth day in a row. Thank god he knew where the kitchens were. The house elves were always so kind to him, presenting him with his favourite foods. Myrtle just began chatting, trying to distract Tony from the pain. Once it grew late enough Tony nodded his thanks for her company and made his way to the library. With a lantern in hand and an affinity with animals that meant Mrs Norris II wound around his ankles and purred, he found the book he wanted and sat on a bench. He worked his way through all his homework, please when early dawn light was rising. Another sleepless night but that was fine. He got up and headed straight for the kitchens to grab breakfast. The painting swung open after the pear giggled. Tony stepped inside, enjoying the warm sweet smells that beckoned him. Instantly he was presented with a stack of pancakes and chocolate syrup. He thanked all the house elves profusely before sitting at a wooden table to eat. He watched them work. The tiny elves seemed giddy with excitement. One brought him a glass of cranberry juice, giving him a manic grin when he thanked her for it. He waited until half seven before he rose and left for his first class of the day. Not before the house elves forced a chicken sandwich and three apples on him. One even managed to refill his flask with coffee and sneak in a second full of pineapple juice. He ran to class, skidding through the door just in time. And so began his day.

 

Last lesson for the day. Defence against the dark arts was one of his favourite subjects. And today they were practicing duelling in groups. It was the Gryffindor’s versus the Ravenclaws. Tony watched with interest as Leo and Jemma fought valiantly against Melinda and Kamala. Although the latter were clearly more used to actual duelling, FitzSimmons were coming up with some very creative uses for spells. Next up were Jessica and the blind wizard Matt against Daisy and Bruce. Realistically Daisy and Bruce were a good team but no match for the sheer ferocity of Jessica Jones at the end of the day. She was tired and wanted to sit down, obliterating them in seconds. As soon as she was finished she slumped against a desk and began to doodle. Matt undid the curse Jess had left on Bruce, stopping his hair being a shocking green. Then it was Tony’s turn. He was partnered with Angela Odinsdottir, a girl with a blank face and a dangerous level of unpredictability. But hey, unpredictable was Tony’s middle name. An insanely tall blond climbed to his feet, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll go easy on you, sister.”

Angela’s face twitched into a snarl, “and why would you do that Odinson?”

“There is no honour in taking down kin.”

“Empty words, brother.”

Tony watched as the apparent siblings began to quarrel. It seemed pretty standard amongst the Odinkin, Loki having caused a room to explode in feathers last time Thor and him talked for longer than five minutes.

“I will fight with honour,” the blond declared loudly, stifled giggles from the audience.

“Nothing-words. And you receive nothing for it. I shall attain victory here.”

“Can we just start?” Steve asked wearily, Tony having just now realised he climbed on the little dais set up for the sixth year’s duel.

At the teacher’s signal, they began to fight. Spells and incantations were sounded between them, yelled like war cries.

“ _Bombarda_ ,” Angela screeched.

Thor deflected the spell neatly, the resulting hit caused the room to shake as it struck against the wall behind him.

“ _Colloshoo_ ,” Steve hissed.

Tony ducked and rolled from the spell, casting a  _protego_ in his wake for good measure.

“ _Confringo_ ,” Angela cried out, aiming for Steve.

“ _Aqua Eructo,_ ” Steve retorted, neutralising the exploding spell with a jet of water.

Steam billowed around them, filling the room.

“ _Stupefy_ ,” Tony launched with a flick of his wand.

It hit a target as he heard a groan, Thor was doubled over. Angela growled at him, something along the lines of “he was mine,” but Tony ignored her entirely.

“ _Mucus ad Nauseum_ ,” Steve bellowed.

A silent incantation of  _protego_ once more, and Tony cleanly deflected the spell away. Another silent incantation of  _ducklifors_ which Steve rebounded, sending the bolt of yellow light straight into Angela. There was a quack and suddenly the girl stood next to him was gone. In her place stood a yellow duck with an orange bill. The professor hurriedly pulled her from stage and reversed the charm. The duel was growing evermore violent with each passing minute. 

“ _Everte Statum_ ”

And suddenly Steve was flipped backward, landing on his feet, but skidding several paces backwards. Tony saw the look in Steve’s eyes. He was out for blood now, white hot loathing burning there.

“ _Expulso_.”

And Tony was almost crushed when the ceiling above him exploded, dropping hard stone, breaking apart the wooden stage. The students around them screamed and ran for the door. Their professor was trying to repair the damage and get the other students to safety before he focused on stopping the two boys who seemed intent on killing each other.

“ _Flipendo Tria_!”

“ _Finite Incantatum,_ ” Tony rolled backwards, dodging the spell and stopping it hitting anything else.

Every part of his body was hurting now, his stomach in complete pain. He felt light headed and more than anything he just wanted this to stop.

“ _Fumos Duo_ ,” Tony declared with vehement fury.

Smoke streamed out his wand and filled the room in moments. He could hear Steve coughing and breathing in hacking breathes as he fled to the door. Once outside Tony breathed in clear oxygen, each breath sparking new waves of pain from every ache in his body. Steve stormed out of the room, tendrils of smoke clinging to him.

“You think you fight a good fight but you don’t,” Steve’s wand sparked red as he clenched it tightly, “who do you think you are?”

“Tony Stark,” he grinned back, shark toothed and completely insincere, “genius, billionaire, pure blood, philanthropist.”

“I know guys who are none of that, worth ten of you,” Steve snarled, “you always think you have a way out. Never one to take the hit and let the other guy cast the spell.”

Tony flicked his wand, a silver glow emanating from the tip, “I think I’d just use _protego_ ,” he replied with a dark grin.

Steve smirked back, before leaning away slightly. Then he swung, punching Tony squarely across the jaw. Tony fell to the ground, jolting his elbow, sending another roll of agony up his arm.

“ _Immobulus_ ,” came a shout from down the corridor.

The headmistress stalked towards them, eyes sharp and wand spitting out green sparks.

“In my office, now.”

The spell released them and Steve muttered by his side.

“Now you’ve done it,  _genius_.”

 

He had detention. With Steve. Great. At least it was an evening away from the usual bullies. They were in the headmistress’ office, sat at desks across the room from each other. Tony just pulled out his usual stack of homework and set to work. Steve appeared to do the same if the rustle of papers was anything to go by. Quiet settled amongst them, Steve muttering under his breath as he filled in his work. Half an hour passed before the door flew open, an ancient professor with wispy white hair stumbled in.

“Professor Grey, we need your assistance.”

The headmistress stood with graceful fury and walked out. Tony managed to catch mutters about a firework prank made of Weasley’s Wizard Weezes merchandise. The silence stretched out once more, Tony flicked back and forth between textbooks. He heard Steve breathe a disgruntled sigh.

“Page 97.”

Steve glanced up at him, brow furrowing in confusion. Tony didn’t even look up from his books, just continued. The sound of his quill scratching against the parchment felt rough in the silence.

“What?”

“Page 97. The answer you’re looking for.”

“Thanks,” Steve replied puzzled, “how’d you know?”

“I did that essay this morning.”

“No I mean- wait this morning? But we only got this essay the period before last.”

Tony rolled his eyes and didn’t answer. Steve didn’t know about the time turner. Only four people knew. Pepper his best friend who he hardly saw because she was a Slytherin. Her timetable was completely different to his. Rhodey who he hardly saw because the Gryffindor was the year above him. Natasha and Clint who he hardly saw because they were friends with his latest arch enemy. Yet another one to add to the list. 

“Page 97, paragraph three,” Tony replied as he flipped his page, “you want the ingredients for the Angel Trumpets draught. The antidote is on page 98, paragraph two, once the method is finished. Although I’ll save you time. It’s a bezoar, stone found in the stomach of a goat.”

Steve remained silent but flicked to the page and breathe another sigh, only this time of relief. Scuffing his foot back and forth, Tony continued writing. He finished his essay and dropped the textbooks he no longer needed onto the floor with a thud. Steve jumped at the noise and glared at Tony.

“Could you not,” he grumbled.

“Of course, Cap. I live to please.”

Tony’s smile was sarcastic and pained but they both didn’t respond any further. More time passed in silence, only a grumble as Tony smudged black ink across his hand. Another finished essay which he rolled up and stowed away in his bag. By the time Steve finally finished his potions essay Tony had finished three separate essays and seemed to be reviewing another.

“Leaving all your work to the last minute?”

Tony smiled, a tiny smile like he was in on some private joke, “yeah, something like that.”

“What?” Steve demanded.

“What?” Tony replied defensively.

“What do you know that I don’t?”

Tony yawned and bit down his standard “there’s a lot of things I know that you don’t.” Instead he answered with a mildly mocking set of facts.  
“My middle name is Edward. A person bitten by a vampire won’t assume a vampiric form unless the vampire gives them their blood. My birthday is in May, making me older than you. Lycanthropy cannot be passed through genetics, it is a long-living virus however no cure has been found. Venomous tentacula juice can mimic the effects of poison but won’t kill you unless you allow yourself to get dehydrated. Lumos has several forms, the most powerful being-“

“Stop, just stop. Forget I asked.”

Tony smirked and turned back to reading through his essay. The methods of identifying a werewolf and correct procedure for helping manage the condition. Tony sneezed, the noise once more causing Steve to jump. He looked at Tony with a weird glare, almost anger or annoyance.

“How’d you do that?” he asked accusingly.

“Do what?”

“That,” Steve waved his hand at Tony, gesturing vaguely at his head.

Tony reached up, groping for the thing that offended Steve so. Finding nothing, he chalked it up to Steve just being annoyed by his existence. The dust from the books was seriously making his nose itch. He tried to ignore Steve’s stink-eye. Eventually the captain settled down and went back to ignoring Tony. But his nose was really tickling. He sneezed again, wiping his nose from the back of his hand. Steve looked up at him and glared.

“What?” Tony asked, starting to get pissed.

“Seriously, how are you doing that? Have you mastered non-verbal spells?”

“I don’t know what you are on about. Did I give you a concussion during that duel? Maybe we should take you to see Madame Hunter.”

“I’m fine, maybe you should see-“

The door swung open and Head Mistress Grey walked in briskly, “no talking please. You still have half an hour left. And Mister Stark, kindly return your hair to normal.”  
Tony glanced up and caught a glimpse of his currently bright red hair. He grinned, looking a tad embarrassed.

“Sorry, I sneezed.”

“Understood Mister Stark, now if you could-“

“Of course,” Tony gave a look of minor concentration and closed his eyes. He opened one eye and cast a cautious glance at the Professor, “better?”

“Better,” she agreed, “now since you have some time I expect an essay on the differences between Animagi and Metamorphagi.”

Tony sighed and pulled out a fresh roll of parchment. Yet more work to do. Sometimes he felt like he was drowning in it. He had another sleepless night to look forward to, since he still had Herbology work to complete, and Charms. And he had astronomy the night after. With Gryffindor. He groaned internally, not looking forward to more time with Steve.

“Okay times up. Let’s see this essay.”

Tony handed it over and she tutted thoughtfully as she read through it. She nodded and smiled, handing it back to him.

“Outstanding work, though I expect nothing less from you.”  
Tony nodded his head solemnly, turning to find Steve waiting politely by the door. Tony walked past and Steve moved to follow.

 

It wasn’t until they were halfway down the corridor and approaching the staircase that Steve spoke up.

“What are you?”

Tony really wanted to punch him in  _his_ jaw, see how he liked it. Ignorant bastard.

“I’m not a ‘what’, asshole.”

Steve at least had the good grace to look sheepish, but hadn’t even managed to stutter out an apology before Tony was jogging down the stairs to the second floor. Steve knew the Ravenclaw common room was up, not down so he followed Tony curiously. Finally Tony ducked onto the first floor, with a quick glance behind him. Steve ducked into a doorway to avoid being seen. When he peeked out, Tony was gone. Steve ran down the stairs to the ground floor, expecting Tony to be sneaking out. But he couldn’t see Tony anywhere. Resigned, he headed outside to get the idiot before he got in more trouble. Though Steve didn’t know why he cared.

 

“Today’s a blue day huh?”

He smiled wanly at Myrtle. With a shrug he set his bag down on the thankfully dry bathroom floor. He slid down to the ground with a wince, brushing his now turquoise hair from his eyes.

“Yeah, blue. Normally I stick with brown, don’t want to give people any more reason.”

Myrtle clucked her tongue sympathetically, perching on top of the sinks to observe him. She swung her feet back and forth, shoes sliding through the marble.

“How are the bruises?”

“Fine,” Tony smiled.

“Liar,” Myrtle grinned back.

Tony shrugged and pulled up his shirt beneath the layers and layers of cloaks. It was the first time he even looked at the damage. The bruises were purple at the centre and fading to a fainter yellowy green around the edges. Tony got up with a groan as the muscles pulled. His arm hurt like a bitch but there wasn’t anything he could do. He stumbled to the only mirror that was both clean and undamaged. His jaw was swollen and bruised, moving it hurt. He knew that from talking but not even a langlock spell would stop him talking. But he was tired. Tired of work, tired of fighting, tired of hiding. He was so sick of distancing himself.

“Myrtle, how would you feel about me joining you here? More permanently?”

She floated up behind him and met his eyes in the mirror. Her smile was gone and her face was blank. She drifted back and forth, maintaining constant eye contact.

“You don’t want to stay here forever. Because nothing changes here. Trust me, I know.”

Tony sighed and rested his head against the mirror.

“You’re right. You’re fourteen, how’d you get so wise?”

Myrtle smiled again, “I’m over eighty years old.”

“Huh, I always forget that because you’re so childish.”

She poked her silvery tongue out at him, and he pulled a face back. She giggled softly and drifted down next to him. Laying her head on his shoulder she closed her eyes and hummed softly. Tony smiled in the mirror.

“Thanks Myrtle.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nice to have a friend sometimes.”

Tony shuffled from foot to foot, and eventually settled. His stomach growled and rumbled. He’d missed dinner again. He wished he hadn’t eaten the chicken sandwich for lunch. He’d eaten one of the apples and given the other two to Pepper and Natasha (you had to make offerings to the Red Headed deities to protect your mortal soul). He apologised to Myrtle and tried to creep down to the kitchens. Only of course his luck – oh who was he kidding he had no luck. Aldrich Killian and Grant Ward, all round bullies in green. Wilson Fisk and Brock Rumlow, the muscle in red. Justin Hammer and Ivan Vanko, lack of brains in Blue. They cornered him outside the Great Hall as he tried to sneak into the dungeons to reach the kitchens.

“Hey, hey, hey. The gang's all here. To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“Shut it Stark.”

Rumlow swung and punched him square in the stomach. Everything seized and Tony felt himself throw up a bit in his mouth. The acid burned his throat. Fisk punched Tony hard in the face, Tony biting his lip and spitting blood. Justin sneered at him, and Ivan pulled his head back by his hair. Tony rolled his eyes over to the Slytherins.

“You just here to look pretty?”

And he regretted speaking almost instantly. Killian, the oily git, just laughed. Ward on the other hand, swung his leg. It landed hard on his hip, causing Tony to stumble and smack his head on the wall. Ward, Brock, Fisk, and Ivan grabbed an appendage each. Holding Tony up, they began carrying out of the castle. Hammer lead the procession with Killian watching their backs. Tony was squirming, writhing, and desperately trying to break free of their iron grasp. But it was pointless. They carried him down towards the lake and Tony’s breath caught in his chest.

“We are so sorry for touching you, soiling your pureblood with our muddy hands. How about a nice bath to make you clean again?”

They shoved his head under the frigid water, his whole body going stiff from the cold. He suddenly felt his whole body lurch out of the water, flipping upside down. His ankles were stuck together and he was swinging wildly back and forth, rivulets of water and blood trailing over his neck with his head still below surface. He was pushed further out into the lake. Shit. He couldn’t swim. He’d never learnt. They dropped his body. He landed stomach first, with a sickening thwack. All the air was pushed out of his lungs on impact. He was already submerged as he tried to draw in oxygen. The only light he had was the moon, and that seemed to be fading out rapidly.


	2. Come and Go as You Please

#  ****Chapter**** ** **T**** ** **wo**** ** **\- Come and Go as You Please****

He wasn’t out long. He didn’t think so at least. He was lying on the muddy banks on his side. Someone was rubbing on his back as he coughed up lake water, bile, and blood. Now he just wanted to sleep. His eyes slid shut as someone made gently shushing noises. Tony was still so cold. Something was laid over him, tucked around him. Whatever it was, it was warm. He heard someone growl, voice some distance from him.

“Stay down punk.”

He recognised that voice. But that wasn’t important right now. He felt so drained. Suddenly he was being lifted and pulled close to something warm and firm.

“We need to get you to Madame Hunter.”

No. Tony didn’t want that. That would just make a fuss. Maybe even send a letter home to his father. Miss lessons. Nope, not happening. He growled and pushed away from whatever warm thing was holding him. He dropped to the ground with a grunt and stood on shaky legs. One step forward and the world tilted. An arm caught him before he could face plant the mud.

“You can barely walk,” the voice reasoned.

“I’m fine on my own,” Tony snarled.

“Clearly,” and Tony could hear the raised eyebrows.

“No Hunter, get Pepper or Rhodey.”

The warmth tutted and carried him. Tony’s legs swayed gently with the momentum, one arm dangling uselessly and the other resting on his stomach. He burrowed his face into the warmth which, with higher mental faculties slowly returning, he recognised as a chest. He really didn’t want to look up at his saviour. Probably a kind seventh year, or maybe Rhodey himself. Soon he was inside the castle, light bathing him and glowing through his closed lids. He counted the steps of his saviour and growled when he realised they were approaching the infirmary.

“Thought you were asleep,” the body muttered before turning on his heel, “stop being so stubborn. You need health care.”

Tony pressed his finger to approximately the body’s lips and shushed him.

“Half drowned and still as stubborn as ever.”

Tony smiled and nodded, pulling his legs and arms closer and curling into the warmth.

“Fine, stay here. I’m getting Rhodes and Potts. Maybe they can talk some sense into you.”

And Tony was placed gently down, propped up with a cushion.

Once the sound of footsteps retreated, Tony eased his eyes open. He was on the first floor, on a wooden bench opposite the girls’ bathroom. He stood on legs that trembled with his weight and staggered into the bathroom. Myrtle was aware of him instantly, taking in the damp hair, the gasping breathes, the blood and dirt that covered him.

“Follow me,” she breathed, beckoning him back out the door with a waving hand.

Tony staggered after her, silent for three floors as he followed her up the staircase. Until finally he had to ask.

“Where are we going?” he questioned hoarsely.

She tossed her head back to stare at him with a sad smile, “the come and go room. Seventh floor. You look like you need it.”

“What the hell is the come and go room?”

“You don’t live here for eighty odd years without learning a few secrets. Plus back in the nineties it was used to teach a DADA class.”

He continued to follow her until she floated in front of a particular wall.

“Pace back and forth three times here.”

He paced with her floating by his side. There was a faint grinding noise after he turned on his heel on the third pass. A tiny door with an iron frame faded into existence. He pushed it open cautiously. The room was perfectly sized. A single bed with clean white sheets was pressed against the wall, a standing mirror in a simple oak frame standing next to it. There was a small alcove just off to the left with a sink, toilet, and shower in. Tony pulled out his wand, thankfully still in his pocket and not at the bottom of the lake, and walked up to the mirror.

“You’re pale as a ghost,” Myrtle examined him, twisting her head this way and that.

“That isn’t comforting considering I’m looking at one. Do you mind keeping watch?” Tony shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly. He didn’t feel safe. He wanted someone but who was there. He couldn’t get Rhodey or Pepper from their common rooms and he wasn’t overly close to any Ravenclaws. Hammer made sure of that, making sure everyone knew not to talk to him or get a taste of the same treatment. He pointed his wand at his broken nose muttering spells.

“ _Episkey_.”

There was a crack as his nose realigned but it certainly looked better. Blood was still dripping sluggishly from scrapes and cuts all over his body.

“ _Vulnera Sanentur._ ”

The wounds closed up a bit faster. His clothes were stained black and red with blood. He spotted a chest of drawers behind the door. He pulled open the top drawer and there was a set of plain black robes, no house affiliations at all. The next drawer contained underwear in his size. Another one down and he found a lovely pair of silky, blue and white striped pyjamas. He showered to warm up, then crawled into appropriate sleep attire. He eventually fell face first onto the bed, falling asleep before his head managed to land on the soft fluffy pillow.

 

Myrtle watched curiously as two figures ran towards her. They didn’t even seem to notice her floating above them as they ran. She caught a snippet of their conversation.

“-Were doing what? I’ll kill ‘em.”

“Rhodes, I’ll let you have the pleasure.“

“Thanks for telling me Rogers, where’s Tony now?”

“First floor, I tried to take him to the infirmary.”

Myrtle floated to block their way, arms crossed over her ghostly figure. She eyed the two men as they stumbled to a halt in front of her.

“I saw you carry him in,” Myrtle stated.

Steve gave her a look that said he wanted to push through her. Manners stayed him. Rhodey was tapping his foot impatiently. Myrtle glanced at him.

“You’re Rhodey, aren’t you? Tony talks about you a lot.”

Rhodey took a step back and gave her a short nod.

“Yes, and I’d really like to get to him, so if you would mind?”

She glided out of the way, examining her nails. They were just about to turn the corner when she sing-songed at them.

“You’re going the wrong way-ay.”

Steve looked so done with tonight. Rhodey just gave him an apologetic look.

“Please Mo- please Myrtle,” Tony had always corrected him when he went to call her Moaning Myrtle.

She caught his little slip and her face turned to stone, a scowl gracing it. She looked mad. And a mad Myrtle meant a flooded first floor.

“I’m sorry,” and when Myrtle realised he was genuine she let it slide, “I’m just worried about Tony. Do you know where he is?” 

Myrtle nodded, beckoning them with a translucent hand. They followed her back down the hall, she stopped outside of a broom closet. What on earth was Tony doing in there? They pushed open the door. And the room was much bigger than they assumed. A decent sized single bedroom. With Tony curled on the bed, whimpering softly in his sleep. Rhodey sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing Tony’s hair back. Steve perched on the dresser.

“Does this normally happen?” Steve asked as Rhodey continued to try to soothe the genius.

Rhodey murmured a soft “What?” back, trying not to wake the boy at his side.

“This? Fisk, Killian, Ward.”

“Usually it’s just Fisk and Hammer. Sometimes Killian and Vanko. Ward and Rumlow are new as far as I know.”

“He falls asleep during lessons.”

Rhodey shrugged, “doesn’t surprise me,” he stretched his legs and stood as he pulled the blankets over Tony.

Steve made a curious noise when Rhodey didn’t elaborate. It just made Rhodey smile.

“Sorry, as Tony told me, you have to be a level seven friend to unlock his tragic back story.”

Steve chuckled quietly, “and what level am I?”

“From what he’s told me, minus nought point three,” Rhodey glowered at him, and Steve shrunk under his gaze, “but I can’t be too mad. You got me, and stopped those morons bullying him-“

“You didn’t see them, it was more than that. I think… I think they were trying to kill him.”

Rhodey’s face dropped. Well even more. He went back to the side of the bed and stroked Tony’s hair back. The moans in his sleep started again, as well as frantic heaving breathes. Suddenly Tony shot upright, clutching at his throat. His eyes were wide and bulging in panic. His whole body was shaking. But once he saw Rhodey, he flung himself at the older man. He silently dealt with his panic, stuffing it down and down until it was in a box locked so tight deep in his psyche. He buried his head against Rhodey’s chest. His hair flickered between every colour. A bright highlighter yellow for fear, fiery red for anger, a deep dark blue for pure sadness, a lime green in distress, before finally settling on every colour. Each strand was different and the contrast between colours made his skin look alabaster. His fear seemed to be shaking him apart. Every time Rhodey moved away, even to just reposition himself, Tony’s fists clenched against Rhodey’s dressing gown, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, Tony sitting poker straight in shock.

“Sorry,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “but we have class now.”

“What do you have?” Rhodey asked Tony.

Furrowing his brow to pull up the memory of his time table he thought for a second, “Herbology and-“

“Herbology? You have transfiguration with me?”

Tony shrugged, “must have the wrong day in my head.”

He cast a look to Rhodey, who nodded in agreement. Tony waved them out and stood to get changed. Dressed in the plain black robes, he stared in the mirror. He could alter his appearance. No one would know it was him that way. At least he wouldn’t get harassed on the way to class. There’s a reason he tried to be five minutes late to every class. No one could bother him outside the classroom if they are already in the classroom. Easiest way to not be recognised was to look nothing like himself. He was already insultingly short, but he took another inch off and lengthened his hair. It curled into a cute bob, lightening to a softer mouse brown. His eyes changed from a coffee coloured brown to a dark forest green. And his physique changed. He was curvier, body switching genders effortlessly. Some days he did love being a Metamorphagi. He stepped out, grinning brightly with slightly crooked teeth at the look on Steve’s face.

“If anyone asks, I’m a transfer from Beauxbatons. My name is Carlotta Carbonelli. I have a third year cousin I’m visiting. She’s a Hufflepuff.”

Steve smirked at him, “you came up with that persona pretty quickly. Got something to hide?” he teased.

“Yeah, myself,” Tony replied grimly.

Steve shut up pretty quickly after that, following Tony – no, Carlotta for today – to transfigurations.

 

The teacher didn’t even bat an eyelid at Tony falling ill on the same day Carlotta showed. Just amended the register and set about trying to teach them the theory behind Animagi. With the only free space available next to Steve, Carlotta dropped herself down. After ten minutes, Steve slipped her a note on a scrap of parchment.

_Can you turn into an animal?_

It was slipped back to him moments later.

_Don’t know. Never tried._

_Could try now?_

_No point. That’s not what I can do._

_Why don’t you change appearance all the time?_

_Because_ I  _like me even if_ they  _don’t. and I’m not a coward._

 _They tried to_ KILL  _you!_

The furious pen and quill scratching attracted the Professor’s attention.  
“Do I need to separate the two of you?”

Tony – Carlotta – made her voice high and flustered. A little gushing and a tad sickly.

“Oh no Professor. Steve was just helping explain to me the English. It’s my second language and I am out of the practice. I’m so sorry for disruption-“

After that she broke into fast spoken Spanish that lost everyone. She stood and waved her hands to try and convey her apology. The Professor eventually managed to halt her torrent of words for long enough to get her to sit down again. When she did, there was a tiny smug grin on her face and she continued writing out the process to becoming an Animagi.

_Didn’t know you could speak Spanish?_

_Well we are hardly friends._

There wasn’t really much else to say after that. The hour passed by and soon they all collected their things. Carlotta immediately headed for the door but Wilson Fisk stopped her. Steve watched from a distance, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. But there was no need. Carlotta smiled charmingly, chattering away.

“It is a delight to meet you Miss Carbonelli.”

“Oh you are very honest. Mr Fisk right?”

“Wilson. I insist.”

She smiled brightly and inclined her head. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her and her bag, the same bag Tony used, hung from her shoulder.

“You see… we are allowed to visit the local town at weekends. It would do me great pleasure if you would consider… accompanying me.”

“Like a date?” she asked innocently, eyes wide.

Wilson smiled and nodded. Carlotta made her face sympathetic.

“I am so sorry, I am… what’s the word? Intended for someone else. I have a, oh  _mierda_ what’s that word?” she clicked her fingers as if trying to summon the words to her tongue, “ _Novio_ but in English.  _Prometido _.__  I’m sorry.”

“It is no matter.”

He shrugged but walked away. Steve walked up to her and spoke softly.

“Did you just get asked out by the man who tried to drown you last night?”

Carlotta shrugged, “Happens more than you think.”

“You’ve done this before.”

“Head Mistress Grey gives me one day every trimester to play with my abilities. I suppose it’s to stop me using them whenever I feel like and wrecking havoc and why am I telling you all of this?” She left with a swing of her bag, leaving Steve alone in an empty classroom.

 

Tony ducked into an empty broom closet, removing Carlotta from himself. He pulled the time turner from the neck of his robes and flipped back an hour. Herbology now. He ran to the green houses to begin learning how to extract venom from a Venomous Tentacula. He had this class with… Hufflepuffs. At least no one tried to kill him for an hour. Although the plant certainly gave its best efforts. It wrapped its vines around his ankles several times over and was only cut apart by Tony’s particularly vicious severing charm. Although Tony did have to save Doreen and Clint a few times. Doreen chirped at him gratefully, mouth around her wands and she struggled to pull apart the vines. Clint signed “thanks” from across the room, his hand tapping his chin then pulling away. The only reason he didn’t vocalise it was the fact he was too busy swearing loudly when another tendril wrapped tightly around his right wrist. Tony grinned manically, slashing his way through the plant to extract the venom. Finally when class was over and everyone handed in their most recent bout of homework, Professor Longbottom let them go. Clint had a free period and so slung his arm across Tony’s shoulders companionably.

“You’ve got more bruises than last time I saw you.”

Tony half smiled, he had more bruises by the minute at this school, “you can thank your dear friend, the Captain for that. This one,” Tony said, tapping his jaw, “is his masterpiece.”

“And what about this one?” Clint poked him in the ribs, “or this one?” a jab to the thigh, “or this one?” he lightly tapped under Tony’s eye, where a black eye Tony hadn’t even noticed yet seemed to be forming.

Tony did think his vision was a little off. He quickly made his bruises fade into his skin colour. The pain was still there but at least the injuries were less obvious.

“C’mon, let’s go sit.”

Clint dragged him over to the usual tree, and began animatedly trying to get Tony to help him with his essay they received earlier. Natasha joined them, pulling out a flask and pouring Tony and Clint a mug of soup. Tony all but inhaled it, having missed breakfast that morning. He had no idea he was so hungry. Bucky soon joined them, eyeing Tony suspiciously.

“How was potions?” Clint asked, as Tony found him the relevant page in the textbook.

Tony began working on his own essay as Bucky recounted a tale of how Nick made a perfect version of Draught of the Living Death, only to have Loki drop in an ashwinder egg and almost set fire to the entire dungeon. Clint was laughing raucously when Steve approached them, looking harried.

“Hey have you guys seen Tony?”

Clint leaned back, revealing the small dark haired figure bent over an essay. Steve paused mid-step and sat down next to him.

“How’s your day been so far?” Steve asked the group.

“Not bad,” Natasha clucked, trying to wipe soot away from her face.

Bucky was smudged with the stuff and gave a resigned nod.

“Eventful to say the least,” Clint groaned, “Tony stopped me getting strangled in Herbology. And saved Doreen.”

“Who?” Bucky asked.

“Hufflepuff girl. You know the one.”

Bucky shook his head, waves of dark hair rippling with the movement. Clint gave Natasha a look. She sighed, barely a breathe of air.

“Squirrel Girl,” she replied with raised eyebrows.

“OH, the animagus?”

“That’s the one.”

“I think she has a crush on Tony, she was staring at him the whole rest of the lesson.”

Steve furrowed his brow, “How could you be there and in Transfiguration with me?”

Tony shrugged, not looking up from his essay. Though his lips were pressed into a thin line. Steve ignored it. For now.

 

Tony became a small, unobtrusive member of their little group that morning. He worked, seated between Clint and Steve. He refused to speak about himself, just told them “you already know all there is to know.” Pepper had joined them a little while later, muttering softly with Tony about his plans for after Hogwarts and NEWTS. He shrugged. He kind of liked the idea of SHIELD (The School of Higher Intelligence Education and Limited Detection. Basically a spy school in America. Being an auror was all well and good but Tony liked the idea of going undercover, hidden). He was receiving straight O’s in everything so he basically got to pick what he wanted to do and he could do it. Tony hadn't gotten picked on in the corridors today but he still planned to avoid the Ravenclaw common room, and any other common room for that matter. And avoiding the common room meant avoiding the dormitory. That meant avoiding his bed. He caught power naps when he could but Clint, Natasha, and Pepper, hell, even Steve and Bucky, were becoming worried. They could see him constantly battling with the exhaustion he carried everywhere. Especially when he dozed off while walking with Steve and Bucky to charms. He had only been saved from a nosedive by Bucky seizing the back of his cloak. With an inelegant snort he woke up and acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Do you ever sleep?” Bucky said gruffly.

Tony shrugged and flicked open a textbook. He walked behind them, nose buried in the book. But as soon as ass hit chair he was asleep again. The teacher looked at him sternly, and moved to wake him up. Bucky growled and Steve tried to stop.

“Please don’t. I don’t think he sleeps much.”  
The teacher sighed and rolled his eyes, “He made the agreement that we wouldn’t give him any preferential treatment due to his extra classes. He’s not-“

“Extra classes?” Bucky perked up in curiosity.

“Uh-huh,” the teacher agreed, turning back to class and leaving Tony to it. 

Tony slept through the entire lesson, only waking up when Bucky shoved him off the chair at the end.

“Kid, wake up.”

“Hardly a kid,” Tony argued, rubbing his ass where he fell, “we’re the same age.”

“Physically yeah, mentally? Nuh-uh.”

Bucky hoisted him back up and they pulled him off to lunch.

 

At lunch they had to split into houses. Tony dropped down next to an unassuming boy. Bruce something. Bruce gave him a shy smile which immediately fell away when he saw Ivan Vanko glaring. Tony grabbed some food, piling his plate. A dull thud to the back of his head and laughter filled his ears. He wiped away the ball of mashed potato and rubbed the back of his head clean with a napkin. He didn’t even look around to find the assailant. It was probably one of the usual suspects. Tony kept his head bent and ate quickly. Once finished he walked from the hall, too slow to be called running but as near as. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to find Bucky’s grim face.

“You alright kid?”

“Yeah, just not hungry.”

Bucky clearly didn’t believe him. Who would? He was near skin and bones with how many meals he missed. Bucky bumped him with his shoulder.

“Want to talk about it?”

’What’s to talk about?’ Tony thought bitterly, ‘I’m overworked, underfed, and about five seconds away from leaving this fucking school.’

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Tony instead replied, “I’m fine.”

“So I didn’t just see Rumlow fire mashed potato at your head.”

”You must be thinking of someone else.”

”Uh-huh,” Bucky hummed disbelievingly, “what’s all this then?” He reached into Tony’s hair, causing a bone deep flinch from the genius, as he pulled out lumps of mashed potato.

Tony shrugged and resumed his walk out of the great hall. Bucky doubled back, taking only enough time to stuff some food into a napkin before running to catch up with Tony. He caught him just as he slipped out of the castle. Bucky chased him as Tony walked leisurely across the lawns.

“Barnes, you don’t like me, you think I’m an asshole, remember? So how about you leave me alone, hmmm?”

“Now I can’t do that,” Bucky grinned, a little slyly, “all this delicious food would go to waste.”

Tony paused for a moment. He glowered at the dark haired individual who was holding a bulging napkin of food in front of him, so tempting for Tony to take. Tony narrowed his eyes, hand toying with the wand in his pocket.

“Why?”

Simple, short, and very direct.

Bucky smirked, cocking his head to the side, “Steve told me to look out for you. He’s got a thing about protecting the little guy.”

Tony’s face turned from cautious suspicion to outright disgust in 0.01 of a second.

“Is that what I am to him? The little guy?! FUCK STEVE AND FUCK YOU.”

Tony took off running across the grounds, straight into the Outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.

“I’ll show Steve who the little guy is!” He muttered bitterly.


	3. Two for the Price of One

#  ****Chapter Three - Two for the Price of One.** **

It wasn’t so bad. Just a bit dark. He had no idea why this forest was forbidden. He’s seen a grand total of nothing so far. He thought beasts and monsters were meant to be stalking around the forest. But he’s seen nothing but pine needles and dirt so far. Oh, and the odd mushroom. He walked deeper and deeper in, the canopy overhead becoming thicker and thicker until he couldn’t see the sky. Rustling. Rustling came from next to him, in the bushes. He grab his wand, holding it steady in front of him.

“ _Lumos_ ,” he whispered, light bursting from the tip of his wand.

A doe poked her head up into the light, scampering out of the bush and fading into the darkness. Tony sighed in relief, holding his wand aloft. Beams of light fled forward, stretching their fingers through the undergrowth. Nothing there.

“Why is this place even forbidden?” Tony muttered, trudging across the uneven ground, “and screw Steve, little guy, pfff,” Tony exhaled dismissively, “his pal wasn’t brave enough to set foot in the forest, but there’s nothing here, just a lot of nettles and trees and a car and a pine co- what the fuck?” He spun back on himself, staring at the aforementioned car.

He stomped over to it, dusting dirt off the bonnet. A faded light blue colour dully glinted in the light of his wand. He wondered if it still worked. Walking round to the bonnet, he undid the catch and lifted it. In doing so, he swore he felt the car shiver. Imagination. Must be. He leaned over the engine, studying it thoughtfully. It was real! He’d only seen a combustion engine in books and magazines. But this was real. He aimed his wand at the fan belt, snapped from years of neglect.

“ _Reparo_.”

The belt jumped back into place. The car seemed to hum in delight. But he must be imagining things, cars don’t hum. Hmm what next? Oil maybe. But his text books said it needed changing and he didn’t have any. Although maybe _Scourgify_ would work. He tried it on the engine. Instantly, everything was gleaming silver. He tried it on the oil already in the car. Though he really didn’t know enough about cars to know if it made a difference.

“What do you take? Petrol? Diesel?” he wondered aloud.

It’s not like anyone was around to hear him. Just the odd hoot of an owl and the patter of small animals around him. He saw a fox creep past at one point. He cleaned the car and repaired the cracks to the car’s windows and windscreen. This car had seen some shit. Pulling open the driver’s side door, he slid onto the seat. Dirty white leather, chrome fixtures, thin steering wheel. He’d seen modern cars with their massive fat steering wheels but this looked sleek. It matched the rest of the car. A few more quick _Scourgify_ charms and the car looked nearly new. He gripped the steering wheel. The driver’s door slammed shut, the locks bolting down.

”Holy shit!”

The car’s engine revved a few times, a deep growl of an animal waking from slumber. Then it sped off through the forest. Tony kept bouncing up and down on the seats as the car lurched over tree roots and ploughed through the undergrowth. A tight turn meant Tony slid across to the passenger seat. He watched the speedometer climb, up through 40, onto 50, past 60, until it settled around 65mph. Tony clambered back into the driver’s seat and tried to steer. Tried being the word. He turned left, the car careened right, bouncing off a tree. The car honked, the loud noise echoing around the silent forest.

”Okay, okay, I’ll let you drive,” Tony surrendered, letting the car trundle along and do its own thing.

Screeching to a halt, with only about half a foot between it and the tree, the car stopped. Tony patted the dashboard absently as he pulled himself out the car.

”We’re here right? Where you wanted to take me?”

The car hummed happily, shaking a little on its axles. Tony looked around him. His surroundings were lighter, the trees thinner. He thought he could just make out the groundskeeper’s cabin from where he was. He turned back to the car and stroked along the bonnet.

”It’s sunrise. Thanks for getting me out. I’d never find my way otherwise. Same time tomorrow?” he grinned at the little blue car.

The car honked a couple of times, and Tony assumed that meant yes.

”Okay, I’ll meet you here.”

 

Walking up the steep lawns at the asscrack of dawn was not fun. Sliding on dew and his feet sinking into mud was not his idea of a good morning. At least no one else was up. And he meant no one. Norris the second was nowhere to be seen, no Filch shuffling down to halls to grumble at anyone out of bed. Not even Hammer and his league of losers. Tony walked into the Great Hall. A few people dotted the tables, almost all of them seventh years. Tony could tell from the exhaustion and the way many of them were clutching coffee and tea. There seemed to be one lone younger student, looking completely lost. Probably a first year, not used to being up this early. There were two Ravenclaws, his year though he didn’t know their names, sitting close to the door. Both girls, one with Chestnut hair, the other with hair a dark chocolate colour. They were bent over parchment, star charts spread out next to them. SHIT. He had forgotten about Astrology last night. He turned around and ducked into the kitchens. Before the house elves spotted him, he ducked into the pantry, pulling his time turner from around his neck. So it was 5am now and he needed to be at the Astrology tower for at the latest 12:05am. He looked at the time turner in his hands. Hands that were covered in dirt and smudges of oil. He’d need a shower, or at least time to wash up. Maybe six turns.

 

He flicked the turner, standing in the pantry as house elves moved around him to start the preparations for breakfast. He could hear them talking but everything was reversed and spoken too fast so it blurred into a high pitched whine. Then there was nothing. Candles were unlit as the House Elves returned to their sleeping quarters. Eventually the time turner stopped spinning and the moment it was still, Tony ran from the kitchens and up the stairs. He didn’t stop until he reached the incredibly familiar first floor bathroom.

”Tony,” Myrtle greeted gleefully, “I didn’t think you’d be visiting today.”

”Nor did I,” Tony grinned, clutching his time turner under his shirt.

”Don’t you have Astronomy?”

”Yep,” Tony confirmed, “I need to wash up,” he held up his hands to indicate the damage he’d done.

”Oh Tony, you’re going to need more than a sink.”

”What do you mean?”

She indicated to the sole mirror that remained in one piece. Tony walked over to it and peered at his own reflection. Myrtle was right. He had dirt on his robes and twigs in his hair. There were small tears at the hem of his robes. Myrtle floated up behind him.

”Told you,” she crowed over his shoulders, “You’ll need a shower at least. And a change of clothes.”

Tony shrugged, “shower yes, but the clothes I’ll sort out later.” He paused, rubbing a particularly stubborn smudge of dirt on the size of his nose. “But I can’t go to my dormitory.”

”Those people again.”

”Yeah.”

Myrtle hovered above him, twiddling one of her ponytails round her finger.

”What about the prefect’s bathroom?”

”What about it?” Tony asked.

”Why not use it?” she suggested.

”I don’t have the password,” he countered.

”I do,” she grinned and it was an evil little grin.

Tony sighed, “you better not jump out at me again.”

”I make no promises.”

 

He made his way to the fifth floor, listening as some students stirred themselves and forced themselves up the stairs and on to Astronomy. Ducking down the corridor, he found the door Myrtle directed him to. Next to the statue of Boris the Bewildered. He whispered Myrtle’s supplied password.

” _Bubble bath._ ”

The door opened a fraction and Tony pushed it the rest of the way. He stood inside a marble cavern, shiny white tiles decorating the walls and floors. Toilets to the left and a swimming pool of a bath to the right. A stained glass window depicted a blonde mermaid, glaring at him in disdain as she rubbed her eyes.

”Sorry,” Tony whispered, “did I wake you?”

She nodded, still glaring daggers before turning her back on him. That actually made Tony more comfortable. He didn’t really like the idea of her watching him undress. He turned a few of the taps on. One streamed blue lotion that smelled like coconut, another created mist that covered the bath, and the last one he touched streamed, thankfully, water. Tony slid himself out of his robes, standing in the large marble room. And he couldn’t do it. The bath was deeper than he thought, or certainly looked it. He tossed his robes into the corner, and rubbed his hands down his face. He could do this. This was nothing. He stripped down completely and perched on the edge of the bath, tossing his underwear with his robes. Slowly he dipped one leg in and then the other. He kicked a little, gently at first before kicking harder to make bubbles rise into the air. A pearly face jumped out of the water.

”Boo!”

Tony fell backward, slipping across the wet tiles as he grabbed a towel to cover his… to cover himself.

”It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” she grinned.

”What the fuck! You’re thirteen, and who is flashing a ghost?”

”Oh no, no flashing,” she laughed, “but a certain boy who lived came here many years ago, and I may have taken a teensy peek.”

Tony blinked rapidly. Did he just hear that right?”

”You saw Harry Potter’s junk?” He asked blankly.

”Yeah,” she said wistfully, chin in her hand as she floated with a dreamy look on her face, “and before you ask, he’s above average.”

Tony raised his hands, “really wasn’t going to ask.”

Myrtle smirked, “like you weren’t wondering.”

”Really wasn’t. And privacy please!”

She rolled her eyes but turned away, drifting to the toilets. “If you don’t hurry, you’ll be laaaaate,” she called out.

Tony frowned as he slid into the bath. It was so deep he couldn’t touch the bottom. His legs waving in the water to keep himself afloat. He scrubbed at his arms and legs, trying desperately to keep his head above water. He really didn’t like being submerged after… everything.

” _Bubble bath._ ”

”Shit,” Tony hissed.

Someone else was coming in. He wasn’t meant to be here. He’d get in trouble. After all, prefects are all goody-goodies. He ducked into the bubbles, hoping the people were just here to use the toilets.

”How the hell did you get yourself covered in so much mud?”

Wait, was that Bucky? Shit, it was. That meant-

”Well, you’re the one who pissed him off! And now he’s in the forest. Why didn’t you follow him?!”

Dammit. That was definitely Steve with him. And were they talking about __him__?

”Would you?” Bucky retorted.

The silence said a lot.

”Stevie, we searched as much as we could. But you can’t see a thing from above-” they were searching for him? With brooms by the sound of it. “-we did everything we could. If he hasn’t turned up by breakfast, we’ll tell the Head Mistress.”

Silence. Tony assumed Steve nodded. A few seconds of silence between the two, only the rustle of clothes being pulled off.

”Huh, bath is already full. Maybe someone was here earlier?”

There was the sound of splashing water, and Tony felt a ripple bump against him.

”It’s too warm to have been done earlier. Someone probably changed their mind but forgot to drain the tub.”

”Whatever, I’m getting in.”

He heard slow, careful steps, followed by a rush of skin against marble and a loud yell of “woo-hoo”. Then the splash. Tony sunk himself a little deeper into the water, his nose only just above the water.

”You really shouldn’t jump, Buck,” Steve chastised before he slid himself into the water.

Tony kept his eyes closed and back pressed to the edge of the bath. He held his breath and waited. He wanted them to leave.

”Steve, where are you? I can’t see a thing.”

”Nor can I, keep talking.”

Now was his chance. With the bubbles masking their view and Bucky’s constant talking masking most of his noise. He pulled himself out of the bath and padded over to his robes and boxers. Grabbing a fluffy white towel from the rack, he wrapped it around his waist. Tip-toeing away oh-so-quietly. And it was going so well, until his wet skin squeaked against a tile. He saw the top of Steve’s head turn in his direction, the rest hidden by bubbles.

”Is someone there?” Steve asked cautiously.

Petrified. That’s how he felt. This wouldn’t just be being caught with your trousers down, this was stark bollocks naked. He’d be laughed out the school. Myrtle waved him over. She spoke in the barest whisper.

”Hide in a cubicle, feet up against the door. I’ll get rid of them.”

Tony did as instructed, hastening to get the door shut. He could hear Myrtle laughing. Steve called out again, more authoritative this time.

”Is somebody there?” he demanded.

”Well, I don’t know about somebody,” she replied sounding oh-so-innocent, “for you see, I don’t have one. But I do like looking at yours.”

Tony had to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh as he heard the sound of two frantic people haul themselves out of the bath. He heard the sound of them bang into the towel rack and the rustle of fabric.

”Did you run the bath?” Steve accused.

”I do like flooding bathrooms,” she grinned, not admitting to anything.

”Steve, let’s just get changed and go.”

”I can’t when she’s here.”

”Oh, I’ve seen _plenty_ ,” she cackled, “so don’t mind me.”

And with a wail, she dived into the bathtub, the sound of her cackling gurgled through the pipes.

”No wonder the girls hate the first floor bathroom,” Bucky muttered, “let’s go.”

A rustle of clothes, a door squeaking on it’s hinges, and then silence. Tony put his feet down and peered under the cubicle door. Empty, the bathroom was empty again. He quickly dressed, toweling his hair off as much as possible. He flung open the cubicle door, darting straight through her.

”Myrtle,” he groaned.

”Don’t say my name like that, I just did you a favour.”

”I know, you’re right. Sorry,” Tony thought for a moment, “what do you want to eat tomorrow? I’ll bring something from the kitchen.”

”Dark chocolate,” her face lit up, “it was rationed when I was alive.”

”Will do,” he flicked her a lazy salute and made to stow away his towel in his bag.

”Oh leave it on the floor, I’m going to flood this place,” she grinned manically at him, “and you need to go, you’ve only got five minutes.”

Tony ran to the door, pausing at the threshold. “Myrtle, thanks.”

”Don’t worry about it. I had fun,”

 

His hair was sticking up in damp spikes by the time he reached the Astronomy tower. Most of the class was still there, save for a few stragglers. He began looking for somewhere to sit. There wasn’t much of a place for him among his classmates. So he sat with the only other outsider, only she was an outsider by choice.

”Odinsdottir,” he acknowledged.

”Stark.”

And that was it. He sat down next to her. Professor Cooper began teaching, showing them the stars.

”Has everyone managed to locate Orion?”

The class chorused their affirmation, telescopes squeaking as a few people still frantically searched. Angela was among them. Tony reached out and nudged her telescope exactly 3.2mm to the left. She glared at him.

”Sorry,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the sky.

A series of loud bangs echoed from the stairs below them, feet dragging themselves up the stairs. Eventually, under the pale moonlight, Steve’s head popped up through the trap door. Bucky’s popped up next to him, peering around like a meerkat.

”Master Rogers, you’re late. And Master Barnes, if you could kindly return to your common room, your class isn’t until Friday.”

But Bucky was looking around, until his eyes landed on Tony. He nudged Steve and both of them fixated on him.

”Very well Master Barnes, since you seem so adamant about your astronomy education, you may join our class,” Professor Cooper decided, walking over to the trap door. She grabbed both of their collars and pulled them up, giving them a little push forward, “but I expect to see you here on Friday as well Master Barnes. I don’t expect you to make a habit out of switching classes.”

They both nodded, looking abashed. Though Tony noted that it didn’t last. They both made a beeline for him as soon as it seemed they could sit down without further reprimand. And of course, Steve pushed his way between Tony and Angela.

”Barnes, swap sides with me.”

Not giving him time to answer, Tony pushed him towards Steve and moved his telescope across.

”Look, I get it, you hate me,” Steve whispered at him, “but can I explain?”

”I don’t hate you,” Tony replied quietly, “I just felt a bit… crowded in. I don’t tend to like feeling surrounded.”

”Oh,” he replied dumbly, “right.” Shaking his head, Steve tried to bring his thoughts back, “look, about what Bucky said earlier, that’s not what it sounded like.”

Tony frowned. What did Bucky say earlier? He said that he wasn’t surprised that girls hate the first floor bathroom. Though he didn’t say that to Tony.

”You’re not ‘the little guy’.”

Oh. Right. That. Tony rolled his eyes and began adjusting his telescope. That had all happened days ago, why were they bringing it up now. Wait… It wasn’t days ago. How many times had he flipped his time turner? It must be Wednesday night, since Professor Cooper hadn’t called out him like she did Barnes. But when did Steve insult him through Barnes again? Oh that was last night. Well, tonight. God, he was struggling so hard to keep up with days.

”You can stand up for yourself and it’s not like you need us to be your knights in shining armour-”

”Merlin’s beard, did you just compare yourself to knights in shining armour? I am not a damsel in distress Steve,” Tony hissed, eye fixed to the eyepiece of the telescope.

”We know,” Bucky placated quickly, “we know. You know how to handle yourself, clearly. Not many students that go into the forbidden forest come out again.”

Tony rolled his eyes. There wasn’t anything there, just deer, foxes, and a no-longer-beaten-up car.

”So we wanted to apologise properly,” Steve was scribbling nonsense on his star map when he realised Professor Cooper’s assessing eyes had landed on him, “we’re sorry. We really are. It’s asking a lot, we know, but do you think we can start over? We’d like to be friends.”

Tony nodded, mostly to get them to shut up. This could easily be a very elaborate set up to another prank. So he played along. Let them think they fooled him. Easier that way.

”Whatever,” Tony conceded, scribbling the right answers on his star chart and passing it to Steve to copy.

People cheated off him regardless as to whether he let them or not. Easier to give in. Less likely to warrant a beating that way. But Steve pushed it back to him with a grin.

”I should probably do my own work, but thanks. Anyway, I still owe you for helping me with that potions essay. I don’t want to build up a debt.”

”And I’ll do mine Friday, during my actual class,” Bucky grinned, throwing a companionable arm across Tony’s shoulders.

But Tony froze. So many bad possibilities began running through his head. What if Barnes hit him? Choked him? Held him down while Steve punched him? Or, probably worse, what if Barnes felt the time turner’s chain and demanded Tony show it to him in front of everyone? He’d promised, when he was given it by his mum, that no one would find out. But of course that damn red haired Slytherin found out, and of course Pepper had discovered his secret, and Natasha had told Clint, and there was no way he could hide a thing from Rhodey. But a secret gets weaker as more people learn it. He needed to keep it secret, keep it safe.

”Okay, not the touchy-feely kind like Steve, more of a Natasha kind of guy.” And he removed his arm but bumped into him amiably. “You okay?”

Tony nodded, swallowing hard.

 

Almost all of the lesson continued without disruption. Almost being the operative word. Everyone was packing up their telescopes, folding them away and storing them in school bags. A car horn in the distance made everyone but Tony jump. Instead he grinned privately to himself. Birds took flight at the sound, silhouetted against the moon.

”What was that?” Bucky looked curiously over the edge of the tower.

”Sounded like a car,” Steve replied.

”A car? At Hogwarts? Hogwash!”

”Mind your language,” Steve admonished.

”Oh fuck off,” Bucky prodded Steve’s side, “don’t be such a fuddy-duddy.”

Tony looked at them in amusement. Bucky mercilessly prodding Steve’s side, tickling relentlessly. Steve had tears streaming down his cheeks, mouthing wordless pleas of surrender. Everyone else in the class had left, the rooftop now empty. Turning to the staircase, he made to leave the laughing morons. Although, truth be told, there may be slight affection in the way he thought morons. Not that he’d admit it. If he began to like them and this did turn into a joke, it would be so much worse. His stomach growled so loudly it stopped the impromptu tickle fight.

”Who’s up for a midnight raid of the kitchens?” Bucky asked, a glint of mischief in his eye.


	4. Midnight Snacks and Level Seven Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so bad at pacing myself when it comes to uploading chapters, so have another one :D
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kind comments, it makes me so happy, I literally have not stopped writing this, all thanks to everyone's support.
> 
> Thank you a million times over <3

#  ****Chapter Four - Midnight Snacks and Level Seven Friends** **

Raid was not even close to what happened. It was like they were expected guests. The House Elves welcomed them with open arms and a full table. Tony, stomach so empty he was unable to resist the call of food, immediately filled up his plate and began devouring everything he could get his hands on. Chicken was ripped from bone, spoonfuls of mashed potato were heaped high and piled on his plate, boiling coffee was inhaled like air. Steve and Bucky watched in a mix of admiration and fear.

”I didn’t know the little guy could eat so much,” Bucky whispered to Steve.

”I wouldn’t call him that.”

To make matters more impressive, if that was indeed the word for the sight Steve and Bucky were seeing, Tony was doing this all one handed. The other hand had pulled out parchment and was frantically writing out the essay Professor Cooper had just set them. Steve and Bucky shared a glance, before Steve shrugged and dropped onto the bench opposite Tony. He unfurled his entirely wrong star chart and began correcting it. Bucky fiddled with something in his pocket before sitting next to Steve and helping him correct his many many mistakes. Amiable silence surrounded them, only the sound of quills scratching parchment and the House Elves pottering about broke it.

 

Hours passed and Tony had finished his astronomy essay and three others (Herbology, Defence against the Dark Arts, and Divination, from what Steve could see) while Steve and Bucky combined hadn’t even made it through half the star chart.

”Please, do me a favour and let me finish it?” Tony held out his hand expectantly.

Steve obediently handed across the chart. They watched in wonder as Tony’s hand flew across the page. He even mimicked Steve’s hand writing. Within twenty minutes, the chart was back with Steve and he could finally start the essay.

”Hey, the gangs all here,” came a cheery voice from the doorway.

Clint was standing at the head of the group, looking far too happy for Tony’s liking. Not for any reason, he was just too cheerful when Tony was as tired as he was. Natasha pushed past him and grabbed a chicken leg off Tony’s plate. Other than a small whine, Tony did nothing to stop her. Clint walked in and pinched a forkful of Bucky’s hoisin noodles.

”Oooh that’s good,” he relished the mouthful, before leaning over to grab another.

Bucky blocked his every move, and soon they were fencing with their forks. A few minutes later, two more people entered. Tony looked up at the sound of the portrait opening.

”Rhodey, Pepper, what are you doing here?” he asked gleefully.

”James invited us,” Pepper said, sitting next to Tony as Natasha moved across.

Everyone paused for a moment. Clint and Tony exchanged a confused look.

”Who’s James?” Clint asked, offering a cup of tea to Pepper.

She stood to accept it, sweeping her robes under her as she sat back down again, “James, what do you mean who’s James? He’s right there.” She indicated to Bucky with a delicate gesture.

At this Bucky and Steve burst out laughing.

”You’re real name is JAMES!?” Clint exclaimed, looking so insulted, “I’ve known you for five years, how did I not know this?”

”Five Galleons, Steve,” Bucky held out his hand.

Steve rummaged into the pocket of his cloak, dropping the five large gold coins onto Bucky’s palm one by one. Bucky barked a laugh at the dejected look on Steve’s face.

”I told you, no one was going to remember my name from the opening ceremony.”

”I should not have taken you up on that bet.”

”No you shouldn’t’ve.”

”I’m sorry,” Rhodey broke in, taking a seat next to Tony, “but what bet?”

Bucky grinned widely, like a cat that finally got the cream, “I bet him that I could make people think Bucky was my real name. And every year I got through without being called James, he owed me a Galleon.”

”Sorry to break that glorious tradition,” Pepper replied drolly, sipping her tea.

”Well, it’s not like you go by your real name,” Tony piped up, having gone back to his essay.

”And whose fault is that?”

”I don’t know, but going by your tone, probably mine.”

”Yep,” she smiled.

”But why don’t you go by your real name?” Tony asked curiously, pushing his essays away from him and rubbing very tired eyes, “I mean, it’s not a bad name. I’ve heard of worse names than-”

” _ _Silencio,__ ” Pepper had her wand in her hand before anyone saw.

Rhodey grinned at them both, shaking with silent laughter. Eventually he managed to get himself under control.

”Now, now Pepper, as your Head Boy, I kindly ask that you remove your charm.”

”But I’ve done the world a favour.”

Tony was grinning widely at them both, eyes crinkled at the corners. And none of them had ever seen him smile so brightly, so genuinely. There was always a layer of sarcasm or resignation or sadness to his smile. But this was like a shooting star; rare, bright against the darkness, and fleeting. It was gone a moment later, returning to his incredibly neutral resting face. But that smile, it made two hearts in that room beat a little faster.

 

Morning came far too swiftly for anyone’s liking. They walked into the Great Hall, taking seats at their respective tables. And right there, Tony realised how alone he was. Rhodey sat with his friends in his year. Clint and Bucky sat together, Doreen Green leaning over to chat with them. Steve sat down next to Thor and immediately they fell into animate conversation. Pepper and Natasha sat apart, but they all had someone else too. Pepper with a blonde woman who Tony had never met. Natasha was sitting with a dark haired girl, neither one talking but silently exchanging answers to homework, like spies slipping government secrets to each other. But Tony. He was sat on his own, the benches empty next to him and opposite. After the night he had, it felt incredibly disheartening. But that’s how it is. He wouldn’t change himself to be a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. He did think he had some Slytherin in him, but being a pure-blood in Slytherin would basically mean he had a warrant on his head. Instead he did as he always did, lost himself in his work. All the people who knew thought it was ridiculous that he took so many classes. Most people would have quit them after third year. But most people weren’t Tony Stark. He planned on getting NEWTs in as many subjects as he could. Two girls sat opposite him, the girls from… well technically this morning, but really for Tony it was six hours ago.

”We saw you earlier right?” The darker haired one asked.

Tony shrugged. They might have but he wasn’t about to admit to anything.

”Yeah, you turned and left when you saw us. We just wanted to see if you were okay,” the light haired girl said kindly.

”Yeah, I just saw you doing an essay, and I realised I left my Herbology work in the dorm. So thanks for reminding me,” he lied smoothly, well practiced in multiple time-line lies.

The lighter haired girl laughed, and despite her small frame it was hardly a delicate laugh. Guffawed might have been more accurate. The girl next to her smirked at her friend.

”No problem, happy to help. We actually came over for something.”

And Tony’s face dropped. Of course they had.

”What do you want?” he asked curtly.

The lighter haired girl took in the tone, stood and began tugging at her friend’s sleeve.

”Nothing at all, c’mon Daisy, we should go.”

”You wanted to ask,” Daisy retorted, “I’m asking him.” She turned back to Tony, “So we saw you walking in with Captain Rogers from the Gryffindor team, and he knows Thor, and Jane here wants to get to know Thor and we were wondering if he could introduce us - well, mostly her - to him.”

A look of realisation spread across Tony’s face, before it split into an evil grin, “You have a crush on Thor!”

And poor Jane, she had turned ridiculously pink. Her head fell into her hands and she sunk back to the table.

”Thanks Daisy,” she bit out sarcastically, “I needed that this morning.”

”Don’t thank me until we have his reply,” Daisy looked expectantly at Tony, “well?”

”Sure, I’ll do it. And I’m pretty sure Steve would be happy to help.”

He stood up from the table and began making his way over to the Gryffindors. He heard Jane squeak “wait, we’re doing this now.” from behind him but he just kept walking until he found Steve.

”Hey Rogers,” he shuffled from foot to foot, leg rubbing the back of his other.

”Tony, what’s up?”

”Do you know Jane from Ravenclaw?”

”Yeah,” he affirmed questioningly.

”She likes Thor, her friend asked if I could get you to introduce the two of them.”

”Likes as in?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “likes as in wants to kiss, date, fuck, I don’t know. Likes more than the platonic sense-”

”Right, gotcha. Sure, can you get them to the Quidditch Pitch after our practice?”

”Probably, that’s tonight right?”

”Yep.”

”That’s all I wanted. Thanks, and bye.”

Tony turned on his heel and sped back over to his table. He felt like a sore thumb, sticking out so obviously at another house’s table. Daisy was on him the moment he sat down.

”So?”

”He said he would. Jane, can you meet them after Quidditch Practice?”

She nodded silently, turning from pink to scarlet.

”Cool, hope it all goes well.”

”Wait- you’re not coming?” Daisy looked offended at the suggestion.

”Why? Should I?” Tony asked.

”Well… um- it would help,” Jane said timidly.

”How?”

”It’d make things less awkward because there are mutual parties there,” Daisy explained.

”Oh, fair enough. Sure.”

Two more people joined them, dropping bags heavily on the table. Fitz and Simmons.

”Jane, perfect, can you _please_ explain to Fitz about why you cannot produce food out of thin air?”

”It’s one of five exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration,” Tony interjected immediately, the thought barely crossing his mind. He word-vomitted the answer before he could stop himself.

”See, Fitz.”

”Showoff,” Fitz muttered under his breath.

But Tony heard. He stood up and walked away. This was why he never bothered. Someone always made a snide remark. They were probably all thinking it anyway. He had Potions to go to.

 

Natasha was with him the moment he left the hall. She walked silently with him to Potions, Pepper soon joining at their side, some toast wrapped in a napkin in her hand. She handed it to Tony, and they made their way down the steps to the dungeon. This was his favourite lesson. He was with Pepper and he had nothing else at the same time so he didn’t have to mess about with time.

”So how was breakfast?” Pepper asked.

”Fine,” Tony replied, monotone.

”We saw people around you, are you okay?” Natasha interrogated.

”Yep, they just wanted me to do something.”

”What was it?” Natasha continued questioning.

”Just help set Jane up with Thor.”

”Jane? Jane Foster?” a voice came from behind.

A small girl with her wavy hair pulled into pigtails jumped down the steps to join them.

”Darcy, Tony, Tony, Darcy,” Pepper gestured to each of them at their name.

”Please, he needs no introduction,” Darcy seemed to bounce where she stood, excitement turning to movement, “he’s Tony Stark, Muggle-Wizard Relationship advocate in the States, I read about it in the Daily Prophet.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, “you did? I didn’t think anyone knew about that.”

”Oh yeah, I follow it. I’m the result of a No-Mag relationship. My mum lost her wand permit, and my dad doesn’t know about me.”

”Why not?” Pepper asked, hand brushing Darcy’s arm in sympathetic gesture.

”He got Obliviated. It’s the law over there. My mum got sent back to the UK the moment MACUSA found out.”

“I’m sorry Darcy,” Tony said softly, not looking at her.

”Don’t be,” she smiled, “He’s alive and mum said he’s happily married to someone else now. And I have mum. I’m not missing out on anything. It’s not like your situation at all.”

”My… situation?”

”Yeah,” she nodded, “Your mum’s away all the time, life of a magizoologist. And your dad is President of MACUSA, must be hard petitioning your own dad to change the No-Mag laws.”

Tony was silent. Worryingly so.

”How do you know all of this?” Pepper asked, narrowing her eyes at the bubbly girl in front of her.

While she didn’t doubt that Darcy meant no harm, she sure was talkative. And that might not work in Tony’s favour.

”Oh, well my mum gets a subscription to The New York Ghost, so I read about the petitions there.”

”And about his mum?”

”Oh, I have her textbook. It’s not curriculum but it’s helped me so much with my essays.”

Tony smiled despite himself, “She’d love to know that.”

“But you were talking about Jane Foster earlier, right?”

”Yeah, Tony managed to set up a meeting between her and Thor,” Natasha confided.

Darcy clapped her hands gleefully, “oh Tony I could kiss you, you know how long this has been going on? Too long. I can only listen to her mope so many times. And I have, _so many times._ ”

”Happy to help,” he laughed.

Behind his back, Natasha raised her eyebrows at Pepper with a smile, Pepper returning with a thumbs up. They kept up the friendly chitter-chatter until the dungeons. Where immediately silence fell. They filtered in to their assigned seats, awaiting the rest of their classmates. Though they didn’t wait long. The rest of the class fanned in, shepherded by an impatient, white and whispy haired Professor Foley.

”Simmer down,” he commanded with quiet authority.

The class fell into abrupt and complete silence. There was a lack of the general whispers every other class had.

”We will be creating a Draught of Peace. Please follow the instructions exactly as I write them as this potion is notoriously difficult. If you can master this, you can master any potion set before you during your NEWTs.”

Everyone set to work in pairs, Pepper with Tony and Natasha with Darcy. Both red-heads were having quiet words with their brown haired companion.

”Darcy, everything you know about Tony. Keep it quiet.”

”Aye-Aye Ma’am,” Darcy teased, snapping her heels together and saluting her.

”I’m serious. It’s in Tony’s best interest.”

”Okay,” Darcy agreed, “I will. Is he okay?”

”I don’t know, I’m not a level 7 friend.”

The next table over was having a much longer, much more animate if quieter conversation.

”How did she find out all of that about me?”

”She told you exactly how.”

”Do you think more people know? She’s not even a level seven, how did she know?”

”She _told_ you _how _.__ And I suppose more people might know, but we don’t get a lot of news from MACUSA. They have a tendency to isolate themselves from the magical community. It’s unlikely.”

”Do you know her?”

”Darcy? Sure, she’s in my dormitory, hard not to know everything about the girls around you.”

”Do you think she’s going to use this against me?”

”No chance, honestly I’m surprised she wasn’t a Hufflepuff. She’s more likely to bake you cookies than act that way. Although, don’t eat her cooking, no matter what she says.”

“So she’s safe?”

”I’ll put it this way. She’s level seven worthy. You need to add your powdered moonstone.”

”What?”

”The potion,” she told him patiently, “it’s time to add your powdered moonstone.”

”Thanks.”

He dumped in a vial of opalescent powder, moonstone, then he had to leave it to simmer again. Porcupine quills and a quick stir. Finally, he was on to the last ingredient. He lowered the temperature and let it simmer. He waved his wand and a countdown flashed in front of him. He hopped onto the lab bench and swung his legs as he waited for the time to tick down. Pepper joined him once her potion was at the same stage.

”What level is Natasha?”

”Around a 5.2.”

”She’s gone up.”

”Only by 0.7.”

”What made you raise hers?”

”I just felt like it.”

Pepper nodded, reaching behind her for the now cold pieces of toast. She offered one to Tony, who bit into it without hesitation.

”What about the others?”

”What others?”

”Y’know, Clint, Rhodey, Steve, Bucky, all those people from breakfast.”

Tony spluttered, choking on his toast, “you think the people from breakfast make it onto the scale?!”

”They might have. They did sit with you.”

”Because they wanted something.”

”But they came to you for it, maybe there’s some ground to build on there.”

”To answer your question, Clint is 5.2, don’t know why you asked about Rhodey, he’s always a seven. Bucky is like a One. Maybe 1.1.”

”And Steve?” she prompted.

”He’s like a 0.5.”

”Why’s he so low?”

”He literally punched me in the face like two days ago. He’s lucky he isn’t still in the minus numbers.”

”It’s been more than two days for you though.”

”That makes no difference. It hasn’t been for him. And now he’s trying to be all buddy-buddy with me. Seems… odd.”

”Well, you know what Gryffindors are like, they’re all hot-heads. Maybe he’s sorry. But I can only guess. You could always try, I don’t know, asking him?” She suggested dryly.

Tony’s timer beeped, saving him from answering. He adds the syrup of the Hellebore - exactly seven drops - and the potion turns a beautiful turquoise, shimmering silver mist glistening over the surface. Perfection.

”You’ve done very well, Mister Stark.”

”Merlin’s beard,” Tony gasped clutching his chest, “I mean, thank you sir.”

Professor Foley dipped a vial into the potion. He held it aloft, inspecting it in the light.

”One might even say you have done perfectly.” He drunk the potion from the vial, small smile spreading across his face. “Perfect.”

He moved on to another group of students, all crowded around a cauldron that was billowing black smoke. The professor vanished the potion, and told the student to start again. Tony filled up a vial, and sniffed it curiously. It smelt like lavender. Tony raised the vial in a mock toast, before shotting the drink like Fire Whiskey.

”How do you feel?” Pepper asked, frowning as she looked at him from all angles.

”Calm,” he answered, “and really tired.”

He was having a hard time staying awake. A really hard time. His eyelids felt so heavy and his body felt like lead. But he wasn’t worried about it. Which was odd in itself and probably should have caused him to worry. Someone was hooking their arms under his and easing him to the ground. Someone else had folded their cloak and placed it under his head. His eyes slid shut and he fell into the deepest sleep he had ever felt.

 

“SHIT!” was the first thing he proclaimed on waking up. It was already night. He’d missed an entire day of lessons. He reached into his shirt, fingers fumbling around a golden chain.

”I really wouldn’t.”

And he could feel the danger, the anger in that voice.

”Natasha,” he said through gritted teeth, “what brings you here?”

”I brought you here. You could hardly levitate your own ass up those stairs.”

Tony looked around, taking in his setting for the first time. Hospital wing. __Great.__  

”Madame Hunter had to deal with an issue in Greenhouse Three, mass fainting or something. She told me that if you so much as put one foot on the ground, I am to do anything I like to keep you in this bed.”

Tony flopped back in bed. He knew when he was beaten. Sort of. He also knew he couldn’t fall behind in his classes. He tried to be subtle, hand snaking up his rest. He could just feel the edge of the time turner, when he felt something wooden pressed to his temple.

”Try it, I dare you. I’ll have you in a full body bind, before you’ve even done a quarter turn of that thing.”

Tony raised his hand into the surrender position, “a full body bind, eh? Sounds like fun. But I’m too tired for kinky sex tonight.”

”Damn right you’re too tired. How long have you been awake?”

”Do naps in class count?”

”No.”

”Then Sunday, I think.”

”And considering the fact you do every day at least twice, you have been awake for around six days. You need sleep.”

”I need to go to my classes, I missed them all today, I have to go back.”

The door to the hospital wing burst open, Clint’s foot still in the air from were he’d obviously kicked it. His arms were full of textbooks and roles of parchment.

”Here ya go. All your homework from all your classes. I got the teachers to write a summary of their lessons too. You shouldn’t have missed a thing this way. They also said none of your essays are due until next week. So, here ya go.”

He placed all the books and parchment at the foot of the bed and perched down next to Tony. He rested the back of his hand on Tony’s forehead, and then on his neck.

”No fever. Professor Foley said that for someone stressed, a draught of peace can help them sleep. You scared us half to death, man. Never seen Pepper look so frazzled.”

”Yeah, I should apologise,” Tony agreed, turning to get out of bed.

”One foot Stark. That’s all I need,” Natasha warned him, summoning a steel blade.

She flicked it into the air, catching it in her other hand. Clint vanished it with a flick of his wand. She glared at him, but he shrugged back.

”So when can I get out of bed?”

”Once you get more sleep.”

”I’m not tired,” but his body betrayed him with a yawn.

”Sure,” Clint replied disbelievingly, “and that’s why you’re closing your eyes, and pulling the covers up around you. All because you aren’t tired.”

”Sarcasm works better when it’s shorter,” Tony quipped, voice muffled by a pillow.

”I’ll work on it,” Clint grinned.

”See, like that. Perfect.”

Clint patted his head, smoothing out the covers. Tony let out a gentle snore, Natasha nodded her head towards the door, and they both made to leave. They had almost shut the door when they heard it. So faintly. The smallest whimper. And a whine. They both walked back in and took up seats on each side of the bed. Clint smoothed back Tony’s hair, seeing eyes scrunched up. He was frowning, but Natasha smoothed out the lines between his eyebrows, with a gentle hand. His hand was twisted around the sheet. Clint carefully unfurled Tony’s fingers, letting them rest on the palm of his hand. The door opened again, Pepper peering around it.

”How is he?”

”He woke up, I threatened him, now he’s asleep again. I think he’s having a nightmare.”

”Does this happen a lot? Does he often have nightmares? What are they about?” Clint steamrolled Pepper with questions as she walked in.

”It happens a lot, and you need to be a level seven to know his tragic backstory.”

”Level seven?” Clint asked with feigned confusion.

”Yeah, I don’t know what he grades it on, but he… rates the people he’s close to. And as far as I can tell, he either trusts you or he doesn’t. If he does, you’re level seven. Everything else is just to what level he enjoys your existence. I’ve told him to stop doing it. It’s rude. He said it’s not rude if he doesn’t tell people about the scale.”

”How did you find out?” Natasha asked, head cocked to the side.

”I found out when I became level seven.”

”What level are we?” Clint pestered.

Pepper thought for a moment, “I’m not going to tell you. He might have changed it since. But I can tell you that since he last updated me, you weren’t level sevens but you weren’t far off either.”

”Won’t you lose points for telling us?”

”Only if you tell him you know. And it’s for his own good. Because he’s… he may be the smartest guy in the school but he’s such an idiot about certain things.”

Tony whined in his sleep, fingernails digging into Clint’s palm. Clint didn’t even flinch. Tony stirred a little, pulling his hand away and rolling onto his front, face buried in the pillow. He flinched in his sleep and let out a small whimper. Natasha stroked down his back, smoothing out the covers as she did. She stood abruptly, twiddling her wand between her fingers.

”I have to see to something. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

She walked out of the hospital wing, walking swiftly down the hall, her cloak sweeping out behind her. She reached the first floor girls bathroom, knocking on the door softly. She received no answer, though she didn’t expect one. She opened the door just enough for her to slide through, before she closed the door again. The bathroom was a mess of cracked tiles and broken mirrors. There was a small bag settled in one of the sinks. Natasha pulled it open. It contained fancy quills, sleek and clearly of quality. There were also several pots of ink. A flask was lying on top of everything else. Natasha took it, unscrewing the lid. She took a cautious sniff. She reeled back. This was without a doubt Tony’s bag. No one else would drink such strong coffee. The smell alone gave her a headache. She made to put it back, but spotted something. The corner of parchment poking out underneath everything else. She tugged at it, dislodging it from under the ink and the quills and the coffee she was going to pour away in a moment.

”What are you doing here?”

Natasha jumped violently, quickly placing everything back in the bag before turning around. A girl was in front of her, glowing with a silver light despite the darkening room. She was glowering at Natasha. Her eyes darted to the bag, Natasha still with one hand on it.

”What are you doing here? She demanded again.

”Tony asked me to come.”

”Why?”

”He asked me to bring you chocolate. He’s in the hospital wing.”

Concern flitted across Myrtle’s face, but it was gone as swiftly as it came, “why were you going through his bag?”

”I thought he might need it,” she lied smoothly.

Myrtle still eyed her with suspicion, head tilted as her assessing eyes swept over Natasha from behind her round glasses. Natasha smiled, aiming for a slightly sheepish and shy smile.

”I just wanted to help, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.”

Myrtle blocked her attempt at the door. Natasha raised her eyebrow at the girl.

”You know I can walk right through you, right?”

”I am well acquainted with my lack of physical form,” she stated stiffly, “in fact there used to be a game about it.”

Natasha took that as her cue to fall silent.

”You don’t have the chocolate, you’re snooping through his things. What do you plan on doing to him?”

Natasha raised her hands, trying to placate the annoyed ghost, “nothing. I promise my intentions are not to hurt or harm him in any way.”

”Then what were you doing?” The ghost continued to block the door, eyes daring Natasha to push through.

She refused to rise to the challenge, “I wanted to know more about him.”

”Why?”

”Because he’s my friend.”

”No, he isn’t.”

Natasha smiled bitterly, “I said he’s _my_ friend. I never said I was _his_.”

Myrtle’s face lit in realisation, “you’re Natasha.”

”Yes.”

”He speaks of you often.”

”All good things I hope.”

Myrtle considered for a moment, “They were. They won’t be once I tell him about this.”

”I’m not going to ask you not to. I know that’s what you want, for me to beg and plead. But you’re his friend. And this is something he should know about. You should tell him. I'd rather tell him myself, but he's asleep and I don't wish to wake him up for something so... mundane. I’ll be back.”

”Why?” Myrtle asked, floating away from the door and sitting herself on the pedestal that held the sinks. She crossed her legs and placed her chin in her hand. She looked like she was trying to find Natasha’s angle, find her motive.

Natasha smiled to herself, Tony and Myrtle made a good pair, “I promised Tony that I’d bring you chocolate.”

She slipped out of the door, and walked down to the kitchens. Interesting. There are three level seven friends, not two. Good to know there was at least one more person who had Tony’s back.


	5. Light Bulbs are Needed For People so Dim

#  ****Chapter Five -**** ** **Light Bulbs are Needed For People so Dim****

He woke up really late in the night. He wasn’t even quite sure how late. But he had stuff to do. All he had to do was figure out the hour, and go backwards from there. He wouldn’t go to class, that was asking for a red-head or two to decapitate him. He did promise he’d see Myrtle. He’d say hi before heading to the Quidditch pitch. He promised Jane he’d help out. And he had to see to the car. He swung himself out of bed, grabbing his clothes on the way. He sneaked into the bathroom, throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder. Coast was clear. He walked into the bathroom, immediately at ease by the familiar surroundings. Quickly he dressed himself into his robes, having stripped off the hospital wing pajamas.

”Myrtle? You in here? Or spying on the prefects again?” he asked to the seemingly empty bathroom.

”Tony,” a voice bubbled up from one of the toilets.

He heard a splash, and then she poked her head up from over the wall of a cubicle, resting her arms on the edge.

”What are you doing up?”

”I need to do something, I just wanted to say hi, so hi.”

”Hello,” she giggled, “Natasha came by earlier.”

”Oh, did she bring your chocolate?”

”Yes, but not at first. She was snooping through that bag,” Myrtle gestured to the bag resting in the sink.

”There’s nothing important in there. Ink and quills mostly.”

”She almost found his letters.”

Tony paled. He ran to the bag and flipped it open. He rummaged, pulling out three sheaths of parchment. He pulled out his want from his robe pockets. Dumping the letters in the sink, he pointed his wand at them.

” _Incendio _.__ ”

The parchment lit with bright orange flames, sweeping through the paper and turning it to soot and ash. Myrtle floated next to him, watching the flames destroy the papers.

”Do you have copies?”

”No.”

They stood together in silence, watching as the fire made Tony’s shadow dance on the wall. Tony shook his head, giving himself a mental shake. He had no time to be somber, he had things to do.

”Myrtle, I have to go back. I have stuff to do. I’ll see you later.”

He pulled his time turner out and placed his finger on the dial. Myrtle tutted at him.

”Can you do that in the cubicle? Someone might see you otherwise.”

”Sure thing,” he climbed into the cubicle, and turned the dial nine times.

 

Autumn sun was just setting when he came out. The bathroom was lit with an orange glow. He headed straight for the sink, pulling out the letters buried at the bottom of his bag. He pulled out his wand.

” _Geminio_.”

He swapped the originals for the fake copies.

” _Illegibilus _.__ ”

The fakes were now unreadable, a jumble of letters and spilled ink. He stuffed them roughly into the bag and piled the ink bottles and quills on top of them. The original letters were folded carefully and placed in the inside pocket of his robes.

”What are you doing?”

Myrtle was looking at him curiously, her head peering up from the sink next to him.

”I ran out of ink, came to grab some.”

”Oh. So you can’t stay?”

”Sorry, I’ve actually got to rush to the Quidditch Pitch,” Tony explained.

”Quidditch? You?” Myrtle burst out cackling, floating into the air and rolling onto her back. She kicked out her legs in her mirth, clutching at her side.

Tony chuckled. He did wonder about something though. He might run into Clint or Natasha, or god forbid, Pepper. He quickly changed himself. He copied the appearance of one of the Ravenclaw lower years. Spiky black hair and cold grey eyes. This guy’s name was, oh what was it. Jake or Jacob. Maybe Jamie. Something like that. He listened at the door, waiting for the sound of quiet on the other side. All clear. He crept out, turning his walk into a confident stroll. The corridors were quiet and empty, Tony having no problem navigating them without seeing people. He crept out of the school, heading to the Quidditch Pitch. He ducked into the stairs for the stands, turning himself back into himself. He climbed the stairs, searching for a seat on the wooden benches. He was far too early, the practice only just beginning. Now he’d have to sit through everything. He spotted Barnes about 20 feet from him. In for a penny, in for a pound. If he was going to watch Steve play sports, he might as well sit with Steve’s best friend too.

”Can I join you?”

Bucky glanced up, mouth dropping for a moment before he nodded, “wasn’t expecting you ‘til later.”

”I came too early.”

Tony really wished he’d grabbed some of the essays Clint had brought him. He’d have something to do that way. Instead he was watching sports. He hated life sometimes.

”Why are you here though?” Tony asked, trying to quell his boredom with idle conversation, “won’t your house be mad that you’re watching another team?”

”They don’t care,” Bucky replied, not taking his eyes off the game.

”But why come though?”

”Steve’s here,” Barnes said as if it explained everything.

And it sort of did. Tony watched Bucky, following his line of sight. He wasn’t watching the ball, or the plays. He wasn’t watching anything people normally watch when they watch sports. He hadn’t taken his eyes of Steve once since Tony had arrived. Even when Tony spoke to him, he was still watching Steve, never turning away.

”Do you watch him practice often?”

”Every time.”

”And does he know?”

”That I watch him practice? Sure,” Bucky answered breezily.

Tony shook his head, “not what I meant but never mind,” he smiled.

Bucky hadn’t even registered Tony saying anything. Steve had blocked a particularly difficult shot and Bucky was just short of standing and cheering. It was poor form to cheer for another house, even Tony knew that. Even if it was only practice.

”How long have you known him?” Tony asked, taking advantage of Bucky’s distracted state. He could gather information this way. Try and find out what the pair were up to. Why they suddenly wanted to be around him.

”I don’t know exactly. A while. His family and mine were close, back in London.”

”Childhood friends then,” Tony sighed and leaned back, laying across the bench behind them, “could you be anymore cliche?”

Bucky didn’t even notice him, leaning forward in his seat as the Quaffle got closer to Steve.

”So what do you do when you aren’t watching Steve do sports?”

Bucky shot him a sidelong look, “I like looking after creatures.”

”You got a favourite?”

Bucky shushed him with a flap of his hand as a chaser launched the Quaffle at Steve. He blocked it, but the impact knocked him off his broom. Bucky shrieked, leaping to the edge of the stands. Tony flicked his wand out, a shout of _arresto momentum_ echoing around the stadium. Steve fell slowly, managing to land softly on his feet. He looked up at the stands, seeing both of them standing and staring in his direction. He saluted them both before climbing back on his broom. Tony pulled Bucky back by the collar of his shirt, forcibly stopping him from climbing over the barrier.

”He’s fine Barnes, he must be used to falling anyway. Part of the job.”

Bucky said nothing, he pulled Tony into a crushing hug, before releasing him and running for the stairs. Tony followed at a more sedate pace. He loathed to admit it, but seeing Steve fall like that had shaken him. He dreaded to imagine how Bucky felt.

 

By the time Tony caught up to Bucky, practice had been called off. Mostly due to the man yelling at Steve and demanding he sit down so Bucky could check him over. Tony shuffled over, hands deep in his robe pockets. He listened in as Bucky berated Steve.

”Idiot, you scared me half to death.”

”Love you too Buck.”

And Tony caught the minuscule freeze and the newly acquired tenseness in Bucky’s shoulders.

”No you don’t,” he replied shortly, “you have a head injury or something.”

”No I don’t,” Steve grinned, but it looked pained, ‘forced’, Tony thought. “Thanks for saving me, Buck.”

Bucky paused again for longer this time. When he spoke, Tony could hear guilt heavy in his voice.

”It’s not me who deserves your thanks. Tony saved you. If he wasn’t there… I’d hate to think about what would have happened.”

His hands were shaking as he checked Steve’s head, fingers buried in his hair. His face was pale. And Tony, well Tony hated this.

”Barnes, you were about to jump off the 50 foot high stadium seating. He’s lucky to have you. You’re a good friend.”

Steve looked gratefully across at Tony before rolling his eyes at Bucky as he checked Steve again. Tony sat down next to Steve, fiddling with the ripped hem of his robes. He needed to fix that. Stupid forest nettles.

”Seems like you get into situations like this a lot,” Tony teased Steve, trying to elicit a reaction. Something he could use to build up an impression of him.

”Kinda,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

”What do you mean, kinda?” Bucky challenged, “Looking after you is my full time job. Just three days ago you came to me with swollen knuckles. What did you tell me? You punched some smartass during dueling.”

Steve was comically red, staring at his hands.

”Some smartasss, huh?” Tony couldn’t resist poking the bear. After all, that bruise was still smarting across his jaw, “what did he do?”

”Steve’s a sore loser and the guy beat him at dueling. They exchanged some snide remarks. So Steve punched him,”  Bucky’s tone had irritation in it, but Tony couldn’t mistake the fond tone he could hear every time Bucky said Steve’s name.

”I knew I won,” Tony grinned.

Bucky’s face went blank for a moment, “You won? You two were dueling? Of course you were. No wonder Tony’s so pissy with you, Steve. He won in a fair fight, and you punch him.”

”Eh, forget it,” Tony waved his hand with a flick, “it was like a week ago.”

”It was three days ago,” Steve remarked, “and I __am__ sorry. I really shouldn’t have done that. Poor sportsmanship.”

”Please, it’s in the past. If I got annoyed at everyone who’s taken a shot at me, I’d spend my life annoyed.”

Both of them frowned at that, exchanging concerned glances. Steve shuffled awkwardly in his seat. Bucky seemed to be annoyed at the world now, on Tony’s behalf.

”Guys, calm down. It was one punch, I don’t even have a bruise.”

Steve’s frown deepened, glancing down at his still black and purple hand, “how?”

”How what?” Tony asked.

”How do you not have any bruising?”

”Oh, erm, I just do. A natural talent of mine.”

Tony would have sworn a light bulb appeared above Steve’s head, the look of realisation was so intense.

”Change back to normal,” he said quietly.

But it was a command. Uttered softly but it was a command. And there was heat and there was anger in that voice.

”Fine,” Tony rolled his eyes, before he scrunched up his nose.

He knew it had worked when he heard two soft gasps.

”And that is why I keep it covered.”

”Where are the other bruises from?” Steve asked quietly.

Bucky was canting over him, and Tony could feel the warmth of his body on him. Bucky gently stroked the edge of his black eye, anger mounting within him.

”Take a wild guess,” Tony lay back on the bench, scrunching his nose up to turn himself back into his pristine version.

Bucky cursed under his breath. Tony was desperately looking for a change of conversation. And luck would have it, he got one. A tall blond was waiting by the changing rooms. Thor.

”C’mon guys, we have a date to set up.”

 

They worked like clockwork. As it turned out Thor had liked Jane all this time, asking Angela to introduce them. She never did. Never even mentioned that she’d ever spoken to Thor in her life. So when given the opportunity, Thor had jumped at the chance. They got on like a house on fire, steamrolling ahead of the group. Bucky and Daisy were chatting amiably. Steve was hanging back, glaring at Daisy’s back. Tony could almost laugh. Steve looked impossibly annoyed.

”Do you know Daisy?” Tony asked, trying and failing to hide his amusement.

This was too good.

”Not really, we’ve never spoken.”

”Then can you stop looking at her like you want to set her on fire. I know you have a thing against pure bloods, but leave her out of this.”

”I don’t have a thing against pure bloods.”

”Just me then,” Tony joked, nudging Steve’s side with his elbow.

Steve turned to him, a look of sadness and regret in his eyes.

”Woah, dude, joking. Just kidding. We’re cool. Ish. Cool-ish.”

Steve smiled wanly, turning his sights back on Bucky. Tony watched them until Bucky had reached the steps. He turned to Steve. He wondered, wondered if he could get him to admit it.

”They’re not going to start going out you know?”

”How do you know?”

”Trust me.”

He was hardly going to tell Steve about the time he caught Angela and Daisy (even if he didn’t know it was her at the time) making out in a broom closet. Hell, he hardly thought about that time. The things Angela said she’d do to him if he uttered a word still gave him nightmares. Steve had fallen silent again, glaring harder, if that was even possible, when Daisy made Bucky laugh.

”Why did you tell Bucky you ‘love him too’?”

Steve sputtered, choking on the air. It took a few minutes before he could answer, “what?” he croaked.

”In the stadium? Why did you say ‘love you too’?”

”I- I did?”

”Yeah.”

”Slip of the tongue.”

”You know,” Tony said thoughtfully, “you are a _really_ bad liar.”

Steve sighed, shoulders sagging. “Do you think he knows?”

”I think you are both idiots.”

”HEY!”

”What? It’s true.” Tony turned and trotted off towards the forest.

”Where are you going?”

”Away from you,” Tony called over his shoulder, “I don’t want to catch your stupid.”

He heard two yells of his name, Steve and Bucky chasing after him. He reached the edge of the forest, turning to wave at them with a grin. A very smug grin. He knew they wouldn’t follow him in here. And he had a car to see. Steve and Bucky stood on the edge of the forest, staring after him.

”Do you think we made a mistake, making friends with him?” Bucky asked, massaging his head as though he had a headache. Tony sure as hell seemed to be trying to give him one.

”No, you?”

”Not even slightly. What do you think he’s doing in there?”

”Raising Acromantula as far as I know.”

”I wouldn’t put it past him.”

 

The walk through the forest was about as fun and eventful as last time. At least it gave Tony time to ponder his new information. So Steve liked Bucky and Bucky liked Steve. And they’re both too blind to see it. It was kind of funny and kind of sad. Does he interfere? Does he let them sort it out? Does he give them a nudge? He should ask his car. He wandered for a bit longer until he saw a flash of light. Something bright white against the darkness of it’s surroundings. A unicorn. He stopped in his tracks to watch it. It stopped its grazing and stared at him. He remained still, staring right back. Eventually the creature cantered in the opposite direction, heading away from Tony. He wanted to follow it, it was so beautiful. But alas, he had a car to find and this forest was massive. He resumed his trek through the undergrowth. It took another twenty minutes and a few scratches to his arms, but he found his darling. It seemed to purr beneath his hand. He loved it. He knelt down in front of the car’s grill, running his hand along it. It came away mostly clean. A few spots of dirt. Nothing that would impact the car’s performance.

”I think you need a name. I mean, you have a mind. So you need a name. How about…” he thought for a moment, trying to come up with a name for a cute but spunky Ford Anglia. “How about Harrison?”

The car’s purring became louder, revving happily as Tony petted just above the headlight. He climbed into the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel.

”Take me anywhere.”

That seemed to be what the car was waiting for. The door slammed shut and the car rocketed off. It bounced along happily, Tony not even attempting to steer. At least until he saw what was fast approaching. He tried explaining desperately to the car.

”If we hit that tree root we’re going to go flying.”

But that only served to egg the car on. The speedometer reached seventy before the indicator began bouncing back and forth. They’d reached max speed. Tony braced himself for impact. The car hit the root, and for one brief, shining moment, the car flew through the air. But that moment kept going. And going. And going. He looked out the window and saw the forest floor shrinking before his eyes. They breached the treeline, soaring into the sky. The car took them higher and higher, circling around the astronomy tower. He thanked everyone he could think of that Thursday night was the one single night where no year had Astronomy. The car sped down to the lake, floating just above it. Tony tried to reach out the window, to touch the water, but he couldn’t reach. Disappointed, he slumped back into his seat, folding his arms in a huff.

“So Harrison, I have these friends. Well, not really friends. People I know. They’re getting higher on the scale. Both solid twos. Maybe threes. But they’re idiots. They love each other but haven’t realised. Do I do anything?”

The car shivered, the exhaust spluttering.

”I know, I know. I shouldn’t get involved. But how about I nudge them a little?”

This time the exhaust let out a loud bang.

”Okay, okay, I won’t do anything. I just… I don’t know. I like them, kind of. They aren’t terrible. So shouldn’t I try to make them happy?”

The car revved slowly, turning sharply to the right.

”I know. If I did it wrong, I could really mess things up. Thanks, Harrison. And the ride was cool.”

He leaned out the window as they flew higher, heading back to the forest. But right on the edge he saw two small pinpricks of light, with two shadowy figures beneath them. He needed to sneak out then. He hoped Steve and Bucky hadn’t snitched. Those pinpricks of light could be teachers. Branches struck the car as they ducked below the treeline. They stuck the landing too, the car rumbling along until it came to a surprisingly smooth stop. Tony climbed out, using one hand on the roof of the car as leverage to pull himself up. He closed the door and patted the roof. The car honked, before driving off into the darkness. Harrison had left him deeper in the forest than last time. It took him a solid hour to find his way back to familiar ground and another twenty minutes to get out of the forest. He hid behind a tree, trying to spot the pinpricks of light. Nothing. Eventually he edged out, to the end of the treeline. One more step and he’d be in full view. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. But no one was there. Thank god. He sped up the lawns’ slopes and back into the castle.

 

Since he was still up, he might as well get on with his essays. But he’d left those in the hospital wing. Mentally chastising himself, he walked confidently through the castle. Until he heard voices. Their voices. He ducked into a broom closet, so full he had to stand perfectly still to avoid knocking over buckets and cleaning solutions.

”Haven’t found him lately?” One voice lamented.

”His bruises will heal soon,” another pouted, “wonder where he is.”

”Probably complaining to his pure-blood friends that he has to sully himself around us half-breeds.”

”We’ll just have to lay into him properly next time.”

Urgh, it was Fisk and Rumlow. The meat heads of Gryffindor and muscle of the gang. Tony didn’t realise they missed him so much. It was so sweet he could have swooned. He rolled his eyes and waited at the door. They continued walking, heading up the stairs. Common room, probably. At least that’s what Tony thought. He didn’t overly care. As long as they weren’t near him, he couldn’t care less what they did. He stayed in the closet for a minute longer, hand itching on the handle. He hated hiding. Especially in dusty dirty closets, with cobwebs hanging across the ceiling and that filled his senses with the smell of mold. But it was better than the alternative. He really didn’t want another dip in the lake. There was silence, only his foot tapping against the wooden shelf behind him gave him any signs of life. Throwing open the door, he sped off to the first floor.

 

And he made it, if he could just sneak back in, everything would be great. But what do you know, his luck sucks. He approached the door to the hospital wing, intending to peak in and see if it was safe to get back into bed. Fate hated him. He swore it did. The door swung open, right as he reached for the handle. He was immediately nose to nose with Pepper. And his entire body language didn’t really say innocent. He was hunched over, snapping his hand back to his side as she stepped out. She looked confused for a moment, a double take as she glanced back over her shoulder. There was a Tony in bed, nightmares passed and finally sleeping deeply. And there was a Tony in front of her, looking shifty. Tony knew it wouldn’t take her long to suss him out. Probably not even a second. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He bolted.


	6. How to Scare Friends and Imitate People

#  ****Chapter Six - How to Scare Friends and Imitate People** **

“Tony Stark, I swear if you don’t get back here I will kill you with my bare hands.”

Tony would rather face an angry basilisk right now, thanks. Her screeches though, had garnered them some attention. Namely from his nosy sort-of-friends that came in your choice of Yellow or Green. Tony kept running, darting up the stairs. The stairs, traitors they were to his ability to live, started moving when he was halfway up. He stumbled, slipping on the polished marble. Cracking his shin into the edge of a step. Pepper was almost right on his heels now. Whatever, he’d take a new route. He jumped through a door on the third floor, slamming it shut behind him.

 

He didn’t know this corridor. The portraits on the walls were all covered with sheer cloth and coated in dust. Cobwebs were growing like a disease, spreading from the corners of the room. A spider lowered itself slowly from a haggered looking statue of an old woman. He ducked behind the statue and began repairing his robes with quick mutters of _Reparo _,__ and a quick spell to change the blue in his clothes to green. He scrunched up his nose, letting hair fall down his back and his stature shrink and grow in different places. Pepper burst through the door and Tony stepped out from behind the statue.

”What the fuck?! What the hell are you doing?”

Tony didn’t quite know. Improvising. He acted on fight or flight, and the look Pepper gave him at the Hospital Wing kicked that into overdrive. He’d gone for flight, apparently. So now he was here, looking like Pepper Potts, in front of Pepper Potts. Clint and Natasha charged through the door. Both froze. Exchanged a look. Then pulled their wands out, each aiming for a Pepper and disarming them. Natasha caught their wands and handed them over to Clint.

”What are you doing? That’s Tony,” Tony declared, throwing an accusing finger out towards Pepper.

”Do you really think they’re going to buy that act?” She asked condescendingly.

”I’m still trying to wrap my head around having two Pepper’s,” Clint admitted, looking them both up and down.

Tony had to flawless. Both of them had a reputation that always preceded them. A reputation for knowing. Natasha strode in front of them, pacing back and forth.

”Why are there two Pepper’s?”

The real Pepper rolled her eyes, mouth twitching into an irritated smile, “the genius over there is a metamorphagi. He can look like anyone.”

Natasha shot a glance to Clint and they both stepped back and leaned against the door. Clint nodded sharply at her, remaining against the door. Natasha took a step forward, wand trained on Pepper.

”When is your birthday?”

”24th of January.”

Natasha then aimed her want at Tony, ”What’s your middle name?”

Tony was sure she didn’t have one. A tiny doubt niggled him, but when in doubt go with your gut feeling.

”I don’t have one.”

Natasha moved back to Pepper, “Where are you from?”

”Ascot, in Berkshire.”

”What was the first thing you ate at the first feast?”

Potatoes, it would be nothing but. She loved roast potatoes, claimed she would live off nothing but them if she could.

”Roast Potatoes.”

Natasha’s wand moved swiftly onto Pepper, “What magical creature bit you in our first lesson?”

”A crup,” Pepper answered, rubbing a small scar on her hand.

”What is your Patronus’s corporeal form?”

“A lion, a male one,” Tony specified.

”He’s seen me cast it.”

”He could have answered that one,” Tony countered, both him and Pepper staring each other down.

”And what form is Tony’s patronus?” Natasha asked.

Both of them paused. Tony had never once managed to form a corporeal patronus. He had no idea.  And looking at Pepper’s face, she didn’t either. Natasha smiled at them both, turning to around to speak to Clint.

”Did you get enough information?”

Clint nodded, “I had enough by the second question,” he gestured at Tony, “that’s him.”

Tony removed his disguise, glaring at Clint, “how did you know? I answered every question correctly.”

Clint grinned widely, folding his arms across his chest, “you weren’t the only one born with a gift.”

Natasha smacked Tony round the back of the head. She didn’t say a word, just grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him out the door and back towards the first floor. Great, back to the hospital wing. He loves it there, the silence, the boredom, the emptiness. It’s so great. Pepper trailed behind, looking like she was nursing a headache. Clint walked backwards in front of them all, asking Tony a string of questions.

”So what’s a metamorphagi?”

”Someone who can change their appearance at will without the use of a wand.”

”And you can make yourself a girl?”

”Yep,” Tony nodded, feeling Pepper glare daggers in his back.

”Are you a girl, y’know, down there too?”

”Down there?”

Clint’s eyes dropped to Tony’s crotch, before flicking back up and meeting his gaze.

”Yeah, I can make myself a girl down there,” Tony sighed. These questions were getting rather intrusive. Do people just think it’s okay to ask whatever they like?

”So what are you?”

”I’m not a ‘what’, why does everyone keep referring to me as a ‘what’,” Tony complained, becoming more and more exasperated. Though the way Natasha’s wand was poking into his ribs, he really shouldn’t push his luck. Clint at least had the grace to look bashful.

”Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant are you a boy or girl?”

Tony shrugged. He was just as comfortable in a girl’s body as he was in a boy’s. He just preferred his own body, the one he was born in. Because he was used to it. If he spent as much time in Pepper’s body, he’d be fine there too. He didn’t really feel like he had a gender. He was just him. In whatever body, looking whatever way he did, it was always him in there.

”Both maybe, or neither. I don’t know really. I’m me.”

Clint thought for a moment, stepping a couple more steps in front of them. Tony stared at the marble floor. Of course Clint stepped away, most people would. It was weird, he knew it was. He hadn’t even told Rhodey this, and Pepper was finding out at the same time as Clint and Natasha. People have a gender. Sometimes their gender doesn’t match their body but they have a gender. Him though, he wasn’t sure. He knew he was him and that’s all he knew. But that wasn’t enough. Not for some people.

”So do you prefer he or she? Is there another way you’d like us to call you?” Clint asked thoughtfully, slowing his gait to fall back a few steps.

Tony stopped, Natasha accidentally tugging his arm as she continued to walk forward. Tony was just standing there, face unreadable. Clint waved his hand in front of Tony’s eyes. Not even a blink.

”Did I break him?” Clint asked concerned.

Tony’s eyes began tracking every movement Clint’s face was making, trying to suss out what the gag was, where the joke was hidden. Clint kept his face open, if concerned.

”You’re hard to read, you know?” Clint pondered, “I’ve always had difficulty with you. Is this why?”

”You’re asking what pronoun I’d prefer?”

Clint shrugged loosely, like this was no big deal, that this didn’t mean the world to Tony and confuse the hell out of him at the same time. No one had ever asked that. He didn’t even know the answer.

”I guess I am yeah. I mean being non-binary is no big deal. Certainly not to us,” He gestured between the three of them as Tony stared dumbfounded.

Non-binary? Tony didn’t even know what that was. Was he meant to? He had gone through every textbook he’d ever come across, trying to find out why he was this way. Tony was frowning at Clint, completely confused. And Clint did not like that in the slightest. There was nothing so complex about Clint that Tony shouldn’t be able to figure it out.

”That’s a lot of textbooks,” Clint hummed at him, “and you really don’t have to decide now. If you want to take some time, sort it over in your head, that’s fine. If you don’t want to change a thing, you don’t have to.”

Tony remained frozen. He hadn’t the foggiest idea what Clint was talking about. What the _HELL_ is a non-binary?

”A non-binary is someone who feels they do not fit into the male and female binary of gender,” Clint explained, “there’s quite a few different types of non-binary. You can find loads of stuff online.”

Tony was lost in thought. This was all online. On a computer. And people just had access to it. It sounded so unlikely. Who just owns computers? Certainly not his family.

”Ah, you’re a pureblood. You wouldn’t have a computer. I can let you look it up on my phone next time we go to Hogsmeade. Can’t do it now, too much magical interference.”

Tony nodded mutely, allowing Natasha to guide him back to the hospital wing. It was empty again. He’d already gone back by now. She pushed him onto the bed, where he sat in silence.

”Tony,” she placed a hand on his knee, trying to get in his eye line, “are you okay?”

He nodded, still mute. But his brow furrowed and he turned to look at Clint. Clint was sitting at his side, twiddling his thumbs and humming gently. There was something he just didn’t understand about Clint. Something he’d missed today. He knew it. He couldn’t figure it out, and it was killing him. He got to his feet.

”I need to pee.”

”Use the toilets in Madame Hunter’s office,” Pepper ordered, face still set in a grim line, “if you think you’re leaving here again without sleeping at least another ten hours, you’re mistaken.”

He nodded again. He had no intention of going anywhere. He’d done far more than he intended. He padded into the bathroom, bare feet curling against the cold tiles. When had he taken his shoes off? He needed to focus. He couldn’t get like this because someone he wasn’t quite friends with (lies, he knew he was lying to himself but whatever. Maybe someday he’d believe that he hadn’t fallen for the Hufflepuff’s charm the moment he had met Clint) had said a few words that connected with him.  He couldn’t afford to be that stupid, they weren’t level sevens, they could easily still turn against him. After relieving himself, he washed his hands. But under the flow of the cold water, he cupped his hands and splashed himself in the face. The freezing water jolted him, resetting his systems. Clint’s words, his kindness, he had to remain unmoved by it. Natasha’s gentle hand as she checked him back on the bed, he couldn’t slip. He walked out of the bathroom. A shrill noise of metal on marble, echoed around the chamber. Clint was pushing beds together, Natasha sitting cross-legged on top of the one he was pushing, Pepper sitting opposite.

”What are you doing?” Tony asked, tilting his head.

”We’re pushing the beds together,” Natasha stated, as if it were obvious.

Tony supposed it was. He watched for a few more seconds, stifling a laugh as Clint’s feet slipped on the marble, making it seem like he was running without moving.

”Why?”

”So we’ll have somewhere to sleep, Tones,” Clint answered, as he managed to drag the last bed next to the others.

”Why would you sleep here?”

”Sleepover,” Natasha stood and grabbed his hand, “you have a certain aptitude for not sleeping, so we figured this might help.”

They did this, for him? Fuck, he was going to have to revise their scores. But a yawn caught him unaware. Eh, he’d do it in the morning. Now, he dragged Natasha over to the bed, jumping onto it with a massive leap. He bounced onto the bed. Though he’d put much more momentum into it than he thought, almost tumbling straight off the other side. Almost. Clint had managed to grab him around the waist and pull him back. They all fell into giggles, tumbling over each other on the beds. When they settled down, when Tony had sort of caught his breath, he decided to ask.

”Guys,” he gasped, “what actually is a sleepover?”

They immediately propped themselves up on their elbows, staring at him lying down on the mattress. He felt very small under them, like he’d missed something.

”You’ve never had a sleepover?” Pepper uttered, sounding distraught.

”A group of friends gather together and sleep together in a strictly platonic way. Muggles and Muggle-borns watch movies but I guess you haven’t seen many of those. We don’t really have any here either.” Natasha stood for a moment before pointing at Clint, “grab us some snacks,” she ordered before turning to Pepper, “what are some good non-muggle or non-electronic muggle things we can do on sleepovers.”

Pepper took a moment to think, “I suppose we could tell ghost stories.”

 

So now they were sitting in a circle, Clint handing out snacks he’d pilfered from the kitchens, a lit wand held under Natasha’s face. Pepper was clasping a pillow to her chest, hiding her face behind it. Tony was sat behind her, leaning against her shoulder, squeezing her hand in a death grip, his own shaking.

“I was home alone one night, my parents out at a friend’s for dinner. The rain was coming down hard, a constant patter against my windows. I was curled up in bed, reading, when I heard it. A tapping. It sounded so different from the rain, insistent and demanding. Being so late at night, I ignored the sound and carried on reading. The tapping stopped, but not for long. The noise changed, sounding like a fist pounding the door. I grabbed my wand and walked along to the top of the stairs, staring down at the door. The door had frosted glass panels, clear enough to see if someone was standing there, but not clear enough to let you see who. The door handle jiggled, but there seemed to be no one beyond the door. I yelled out, warning him I was armed. The noise stopped. I hoped I scared the perpetrator off. After ten minutes of silence, staring at the door, I went down the stairs, checking locks and reinforcing them with spells. I turned on all the lights, the TV, anything to make it look like more people were home than just me. I heard a thud upstairs, right above my head. It sounded like it was in my room.”

”Nat, I’ve heard this one.”

Pepper poked Clint in the ribs, making loud shushing sounds. Tony was completely still, wide eyed and staring at Natasha, riveted by her words. Pepper had managed to free her hand from his grip. Natasha let them all settle again before continuing.

”It sounded like the noise came from my room. I kept my wand aloft, light from its tip barely stretching three feet in front of me in the darkness upstairs. I approached my room cautiously, avoiding every creaky floorboard. I threw open my bedroom door, the door bouncing off the wall. The room was empty. Stepping in, I searched thoroughly. There was nothing. No one was there. I closed my bedroom door, locking it up tight, using every spell I could think of. I was safe inside. I picked up my book, and resumed my reading. I hadn’t even turned the page before I felt it. Something was stroking a thin line up and down my spine.”

Clint swept a light touch down Tony’s spine. Tony whimpered and tried to tug Pepper’s pillow away from her to hide behind it. He hid his face behind a corner of it, as Natasha continued.

”I turned but there was nothing. The room was as empty as before. I felt along my back. I could feel something wet and warm running down my back. My hand was covered in blood, but I couldn’t find any cuts. It didn’t seem to be my blood. Lightning flashed, casting the outside into sharp relief. Words were painted on my window, the paint fresh. It dripped down the windows, spelling out the words ‘Save Me’.”

Clint blew softly into Tony’s ear. He shrieked, pulling the pillow from Pepper and smacking Clint round the face in his panic. Clint was howling with laughter. Pepper grabbed another pillow and began pummeling him too. Natasha sighed, but she was grinning fondly.

”I guess story time is over.”

She grabbed a pillow too, and began distracting Tony to give Clint a chance to grab a pillow for himself. Though he didn’t keep it for long, Tony wrestling it from his grip as Natasha swung for Pepper.

”Mercy, I beg for mercy,” Clint choked on his laughter, raising his empty hands as Pepper swung for his chest, “Tony, please get your girlfriend to stop.”

Tony and Pepper paused for a moment, Natasha smacking Tony in the face with her pillow. He blinked comically before he burst out laughing, Pepper following. Neither Natasha nor Clint had any idea what was happening. Eventually, Pepper managed to control herself, Tony still laughing.

”We- We aren’t dating,” she giggled.

”No?” Natasha asked curiously, “never considered it?”

”Of course I have, but we’d…” she paused, looking at Tony for support.

”We’d be a disaster,” Tony laughed, sounding manic in his glee, “I once bought her a giant stuffed bunny for her birthday, took up her whole dorm room.”

”I remember that bunny,” Natasha said, tapping her lips with her index finger, “we all had to climb over it to get to our beds.”

”I eventually had to shrink it, lives on my bedside table now.”

Tony sprawled out on the bed, “we’re great as friends but we’d be terrible together.”

”Ouch, harsh,” Clint said, glancing to see how Pepper took that comment, but she was nodding emphatically.

”Bad match. Plus he isn’t attracted to me,” Pepper said bluntly, reaching for the cushions.

”Why not?” Clint asked.

”I’m gay- well I don’t know. If I’m non-binary, I don’t know if that’s the right word. I’m attracted to guys,” Tony said, staring at the ceiling.

Natasha shrugged, “Clint’s bi. I’m asexual. Phil’s gay.”

Tony frowned, propping himself up on his elbows, “Who’s Phil?”

Clint glanced at Natasha, nodding minutely.

”He’s our boyfriend,” Natasha stated bluntly, “Clint, Phil, and I are in a relationship.”

”How does that work?” Tony looked curious, instead of the disgust Natasha and Clint were accustomed to.

”Very well actually. As long as we all communicate with each other, we don’t encounter any problems from it. Well, no more than the usual relationship tiffs that every relationship had.”

”It’s called Polyamory,” Clint added.

”Oh,” Tony seemed content in that. He flopped back onto the bed, tucking a pillow under his head.

The others followed suit, laying down with him.

”So what else happens on sleepovers?” he yawned widely, curling on his side into the fetal position.

”Some other games, but sleep mostly.”

Tony nodded sleepily, one arm tucking under his pillow and pulling it closer. Clint and Natasha slept on the same bed next to Tony. Natasha slept closest to the door, wand clasped in her hand. Pepper slept on Tony’s other side, starfishing across the bed. Tony shuffled closer to Clint, muttering softly once he was sure the pair were asleep.

”Welcome to Level Seven.”

Tony rolled over and fell asleep. He missed the way Clint beamed at him, or the smirk Natasha couldn’t quite hide.

 

Tony woke up alone. He would have been certain the previous night was a dream, if it wasn’t for all the beds still being pushed together. It must be pretty late in the morning, the sun was high, casting beams of light across the hospital wing. He wasn’t alone either. A boy, one he vaguely recognised, was sat up in bed, flicking through a magazine. Tony pulled one of the privacy curtains around him. He changed quickly, robes shoved haphazardly over him. A flick of his wand and the green on his robes returned to blue. He strode to the door. Hand on the handle. Then he heard it. __Thwip.__ His hand was stuck to the handle in something white and sticky. Was this… spider’s webbing?

”Your scary red haired friend told me you can’t leave,” the boy said, hand still outstretched.

He wasn’t aiming his wand at Tony, but his wrist. Had he mastered wandless magic already? Tony could barely do that. He hadn’t looked up from his magazine either. He lowered his hand and turned the page.

”You could just let me go, our little secret,” Tony tried to cajole.

”I could,” the boy agreed, “I’m not going to. She threatened parts of my anatomy that I very much like, thanks.”

”But I have class.”

The boy shrugged, indifferent. He licked his finger before turning the page.

”I need to get to class,” Tony persisted.

”And I need to keep my testicles,” the boy answered, “what do you think is more important to me?”

Tony stared angrily at the ground. He couldn’t go to class, and he couldn’t move away from this damn door. Couldn’t even get his essays, they were lying in a pile next to the giant bed Clint created.

”Why are you in here?”

”Transfiguration accident. Apparently I am now partially animagus. No one knows how, and no one can reverse it. And unlike other animagus I can’t actually control it.”

”How did it happen?” Tony asked, sitting at the door, hand above him stuck to the handle.

”I might have been experimenting with something before class, and it may not have turned out how I hoped,” the boy gave him a contrite smile, before flicking another page, “if you stay in here, I’ll release you. Promise you won’t run?”

Tony sighed. He was beat. Natasha put the fear of God in any sensible person.

”Oh, and she threatened you. If you run, she’ll cut your legs off with a rusty butter knife.”

”Fine, I’ll stay.”

”Great.”

The boy stood and with a flick of his wand, the webbing came undone. Tony stood and offered his hand for the boy to shake.

”Tony,” he introduced himself.

The boy clasped his hand in return, smiling widely, “Peter. So glad you saw reason.”

”I saw my life flash before my eyes, after you mentioned her little threat.”

”Like I said. Reason.”


	7. Study Groups and Self-Perception

#  ****Chapter Seven - Study Groups and Self-Perception** **

He was bored. Very, very bored. It was three o’clock and Peter still refused to let him out of the hospital wing. He’d finished all his essays from yesterday, read the entirety of Peter’s magazine. The Quibbler had some interesting, if unverified, articles. He wanted to see if he could recreate the results of their article on transfiguring inanimate objects into beings with sentience. But he couldn’t do that from here. He sighed for perhaps the sixth time in the last 15 minutes. Peter looked up at him, with raised eyebrows.

”It sucks, but at least you don’t produce webs.”

He fell back onto the bed with an irritated groan. He was fine, he slept, why wouldn’t Natasha let him go to class? He pulled __Extreme Incantations__  towards him and idly flicked through. He landed on a page of Legilimency. He skimmed through. His father had made him study occlumency from a young age and he knew it was in case he encountered a Legilimens, but he didn’t know what that was. He knew his father was one. But other than that, his father kept him in the dark about it. He perused the page at a slower pace this time. A Legilimens was someone who could read your mind, plant visuals if they chose to, pick at your memories, and find your fears. Tony blinked at the page, as though he expected the words to change. Nope, a legilimens could still read minds. He shuddered, snapping the book shut for a moment. But curiosity won out and he continued reading the page. Some people were born with a natural aptitude for legilimency, being able to perform it from a young age without wands or verbal incantation. Others spent years honing the skill. Occlumency was the ability to block legilimency. He had never been more grateful to his father for his tutelage. Not so much for the other things, the things in the letters still in the pocket over his heart.

”What are you reading?”

Tony jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t heard Peter get out of bed, let alone make it to the other side of the room. He showed the book to the boy, before trying to stop his heart beating a mile a minute.

”So, I’m in for a transfig mishap, what are you here for? And why is your scary friend keeping you here?”

”I’m here for time travel sickness.”

Silence between them. Then Peter snorted.

”Pfft yeah sure, what’s the real reason?”

Tony shrugged with a small smile, “I passed out in potions. And she’s really… protective, I guess.”

Peter hummed, moving himself to the bed next to Tony, “may I?” he asked, indicating to a book with a bright red cover.

”Sure, I’m done with it, done that essay already.”

”Cool, I wanna find out what bit me.”

Tony glanced at the book. __Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.__ _ _  
__

”I thought you said it was a transfiguration accident. Why would something bite you?”

Peter shrugged, absorbed in the book.

”Maybe I was bitten by this?” he pointed at one of the first pages.

”An acromantula? Really?” Tony raised his eyebrow at Peter, who did not seem discouraged.

”Yeah, it’s a spider, I have the ability to create webs, it fits. Why wouldn’t it be?”

”Because if one of those had bitten you, even a small one, you’d be dead.”

”Oh, so not that then.”

Tony shook his head with a smirk, “maybe it was a flobberworm.”

Peter scoffed, “Please, I’d be bitten by something cooler than that.”

Tony pulled the book towards him, flicking a couple of pages ahead, “maybe a doxy, they look a bit like spiders. Maybe your body reacted unusually to their venom.”

Peter shook his head, “It wasn’t a Doxy, I stay as far away from the things as I can.”

Tony hummed in acknowledgment, handing the book back. Peter flicked through the book for a bit longer, setting it on Tony’s pile of textbooks with a thump. They settled down on the bed together.

They both fell into a doze, autumn sunlight streaming in through the window.

 

Tony felt very rudely awakened when the door to the hospital wing burst open. Two figures, blond and brunet were standing in the doorway, huffing and panting. Sweat was dripping down the side of their faces.

”We heard you were taken to the hospital wing, what happened?” Steve gasped, nearly running up to his bed.

Tony frowned at them. Were they only just finding out? Natasha probably kept it quiet.

”Yeah, fainted or something during potions yesterday. Natasha refuses to let me out of here, even though I feel fine.”

Bucky crouched down next to his bed, staring at the floor, hands clasped around the back of his neck.

”Thank god,” he breathed.

Tony laughed, “did you guys run all the way here, for little ol’ me?”

Steve and Bucky shared a look before nodding, “of course we did,” Steve answered.

It was said with such surety, such conviction, that Tony felt himself blush to the roots of his hair. Embarrassment. It had to be. After all, who actually comes running full speed to a hospital wing? Especially for him. These meat heads, apparently. Neither of them seemed to notice the change of hue in his skin, barreling on with the conversation.

”Yeah, Clint told me at dinner that you were here. I told Steve and here we are.”

”Yeah, what happened though?”

”I drank a draught of peace and bam, out like a light,” Tony laughed.

”Did you brew it badly? I’ve heard that can be fatal,” Bucky asked, concerned frown deepening.

Steve punched him in the arm lightly, “Tony, brew something wrong? Yeah right.”

Tony beamed at him, trying to stifle his laughter at Bucky’s outraged look.

”I only meant-”

”Don’t worry Bucky, I know what you meant,” Tony said, unable to stop his laughter this time, when Bucky poked his tongue out at Steve.

Steve laughed too, making the bed bounce from it.

”Oh,” Bucky blurted, “almost forgot, Clint asked me to bring these.”

Bucky reached into his bag, pulling out piles and piles of parchment. Once those were on the bed, he reached in again, pulling out several textbooks.

”He got those out of the library for you, they need to be returned by Monday. How many classes do you even take?”

”Please tell me Nat isn’t making me stay here ‘til Monday?” Tony groaned, laying his head against the pillow dramatically, purposefully ignoring Bucky’s question.

Steve shook his head, “Clint implied you’d be good to go tonight.”

”Awesome,” Tony threw back the bed covers and climbed out of bed, “I gotta go to the library and study.”

”Can I come?” Bucky requested shyly.

Tony stopped to look at him, “why?”

”I have a favour to ask actually,” Bucky stared at the floor, scuffing his foot back and forth, “I may, technically, be failing History of Magic. I have to retake a class test on Monday. I was hoping you could tutor me.”

”Sure, I think I have a History essay in here somewhere,” Tony agreed, rifling through the parchment sheets, “wanna start now?”

 

They were gathered around a round table, shelves of books surrounding them. Tony wandered up the aisles, trying to find another book on legilimency. It seemed like it would be a good thing to learn. He could use it on Hammer and his fuckwits. He also perused the shelves for something that might explain why his hospital mate had suddenly started walking up walls and shooting webs from his wrists. No luck on that front so far. Steve was flicking through Peter’s copy of the Quibbler, the spider boy giving it to Tony after claiming he’d read it a thousand times already. Bucky was staring blankly at __Hogwarts: A History.__  His hands clasped at his hair and he made a long low groan. Drawing Tony’s attention back to his table, he leaned over Barnes to look at what he’d written already. The answer was nothing, he hadn’t even started the essay. Tony dropped himself into the seat next to him.

”What are you struggling with?”

”Everything,” Bucky groaned, slamming his head into the table.

Tony managed to slide his hand under, taking the brunt of the blow. Protect Bucky's brain cells.

”Well, what’s the essay title?”

” _Dumbledore’s Army ultimately led to the downfall of Lord Voldemort. Discuss _.__ ”

Tony sighed, running his hand through his hair, “Tough one, definitely. Binns isn’t going easy on your class. But for a start, you’re looking in the wrong book. This was released pre-battle of Hogwarts. Give me a sec.”

Tony wandered up and down the aisles, pausing only to grab the odd book or two from different sections of the shelves. He wandered back, though it was a wonder how he managed that. The pile of books in his arms blocked his view. Bucky stood to take half the stack from him. He gave the books a daunted look, eyeing them up and down.

”Any chance you can give me the abridged version?”

Tony blinked at him once before bursting into laughter as he dumped the rest of the books on their desk, “this is the abridged version.”

Steve looked up from his magazine, grinning at Bucky, “this is what you get for mucking about with Clint instead of paying attention.”

”Alright Mr Perfect Student,” Tony teased, “What is the name of the goblin who helped the trio break into Gringotts?”

Steve’s face dropped. All smiles and laughter gone in a second. His face was perfectly blank as the answer escaped. Tony handed a purple and red book to Bucky.

”His name was Griphook, mentioned in Chapter 26 with assisting. Bucky can check it if you doubt me.”

Steve shook his head, trying to hide his amusement. He almost did, if he hadn’t mouthed ‘how the hell?’ at Bucky. Bucky simply shrugged as his response.

”What’s the term Steve? Kids in glass houses,” Tony taunted.

”My hero, defending my honour,” Bucky fake swooned onto Tony’s lap.

Tony patted his hair awkwardly, trying to ignore the look Steve was giving him. But he was never one for ignoring his curiosity. Steve’s face was weird. And Tony meant that in the nicest way he could. Steve wasn’t giving him the look he’d shot at Daisy. It was a weird look. Almost confusion. Like he liked what he saw but wasn’t sure why. Tony would almost rather Steve glared at him like Tony was the cause of all his problems.

”What?” Tony eventually asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Steve tipped his head to the side, as though admiring a work of art, “the lighting coming from behind you, it makes for a good picture.”

”Okaaay then.”

”Steve does muggle art when he isn’t blocking quaffles,” Bucky said, still with his head on Tony’s lap.

”Cool, but you need to finish your essay.”

Tony prodded Bucky’s cheek until he sat up.

 

October blurred into November and soon December was approaching. The study group between the three of them had become a regular thing. The rest of the gang joined now and then, mostly when they forgot they had an essay due on the Monday morning. Today it was just the three of them. This time it was Steve moaning over defense against the dark arts. Bucky was happily browsing the shelves for a book he was sure would help Steve in his predicament. Tony was sat next to him, leaning up in his space as he scribbled certain parts out and annotated sections of Steve’s essay. He edged away a little, feeling Steve’s breath hitch when Tony was practically on his lap as he reached for a book on Steve’s other side.

”Sorry, did that hurt?” He scurried his hands away, pulling them instantly back to his sides.

”No, it’s fine.”

But it didn’t look fine. Steve was making a face again. He looked so damn confused. Tony stood, feeling his heart beating a mile a minute. He backed away, mumbling something about looking for a book. He all but ran to the nearest shelves. He could hear Steve sigh. He peered around the shelves. Christ, he hadn’t realised how tense Steve had been until he saw his shoulders slump and his back stop being poker straight. Of course he’d been tense, Tony had been nearly on him. What did Steve think? God, he needed to learn boundaries. How did other people just know this stuff? Pepper always said he was either incredibly blunt or overtly affectionate, and there seemed to be no in between. But neither her or Rhodey told him any different, they just went along with it. He sunk to the floor, pulling himself to his knees. He’d fucked up. He grabbed a random book off the shelf and sat as far away from Steve as the table allowed. They worked in silence, for ten more minutes until Bucky joined them again, arms full of books as he spread them across the table.

”These should help,” he grinned at Steve.

Until he paused, looking at the two of them. He fish-lipped around words that never came. Bucky pulled out a chair out with a scraping sound, echoing through the silent library, before lowering himself into it silently, watchful of them both. Tony excused himself quietly minutes after, grabbing his things and slipping out of the door before either of them could protest.

 

He power-walked away as fast as he could without it looking like fleeing. Ducking into the nearest empty room - the trophy room as it happens - he quickly changed his appearance to a small mousy girl, with ginger hair and a slim face and a sharp nose. He returned to the library, returning the books he had borrowed, and settling down at one of the study benches beneath the shelves. He had no intention of eavesdropping, he simply had essays to finish. In fact he’d sat as far away as he could manage, right next to the restricted section. It really wasn’t his fault the voices carried.

”What the hell happened? I was gone for like five minutes!”

Silence.

”Don’t just shrug at me, what happened?”

”Look, I don’t know. He was leaning across me for a book then he just freaked out.”

Tony tried not to get angry at that. Steve was the one who was acting strange.

”Why do I feel you aren’t blameless in this?”

”I didn’t do anything.”

”When I came back, the air was frozen with how cold you two were being to each other. The vibes you two were giving off were ridiculous. What did you do?”

”Nothing Buck, honest. Why do you keep blaming me?”

Tony couldn’t help but grin at the groan Bucky made.

”Maybe because Tony was the one who left.”

”I don’t know what happened. You’d need to ask him.”

A chair was scraped hastily back and Tony could hear footsteps coming up towards his aisle. He bent his head over his essay, as if he hadn’t just been listening in. He hadn’t tried. Honestly. Damn Library. Steve wandered down his aisle, searching the upper shelves. He groaned, unable to find the book.

”Can I help you find something, or are you just here to distract me?” Tony asked haughtily.

”Sorry, I was looking for __Magical Studies__  or __Magical Theory.__  I thought they were down this aisle.”

Tony handed __Magical Theory__ over without looking up, scribbling hastily across his essay. He didn’t notice Steve’s eyes land on his tattered messenger bag.

”How long have you been here?”

”Longer than you and your noisy friend,” Tony replied primly.

”Tony, I know that’s a lie.”

Tony’s head shot up so fast Steve was concerned for a moment that he’d give himself a neck injury. Tony narrowed his eyes, asking the unasked question.

”Your bag. You never change it.”

Tony sighed and closed his eyes, fingers gripping at his hair, “for the record, I didn’t want to eavesdrop, I just wanted to finish my essays.” He scrunched up his nose and became himself again, “I needed to use some books.”

Steve nodded, sitting down next to him, “Why did you leave?” he said eventually.

”You were tense. I thought I did something wrong,” Tony answered, surprised by his own honestly.

Steve sat thoughtfully for a few minutes. Tony nervously scratched himself with his quill, covering his hand in ink and small cuts. Steve took the quill from him, setting it down next to Tony’s parchment.

”Did you know that whenever anyone touches you, with the only exception being James Rhodes, you flinch or freeze?”

Tony shook his head. That couldn’t be true, could it? He was alright with Pepper, but… now he thought of it, she was always hesitant to touch him. She projected all her movements. And more often than not, she let him make the first move. So did Clint and Natasha actually. He wasn’t that bad, was he? He knew he froze up sometimes, but he thought he was okay with the level sevens. Whenever someone touched him, he knew his mind went through every possible way he can think they could hurt him. It was automatic. But Steve was right, Rhodey was the only exception to that happening in his head.

”You froze when Bucky placed his head in your lap the other day,” and there was the bitterness Tony had expected when Bucky had actually done it. Steve powered through though, “for a second, but it was there. I figured you didn’t like physical contact. And so when you had actually… touched me first… I was worried I’d scare you off or something. I guess I did just that,” Steve laughed nervously, ruffling the hair on the back of his head, brushing against the grain.

”I’m sorry.”

Steve barked a laugh, “you don’t need to be sorry, it’s hardly anyone’s fault.”

Tony nodded, staring blankly at his pages. He hadn’t realised it had effected him this much. His father, the bullying, everything. He thought he was the same person as he was in first year, with the addition of some facial hair and more homework.

”Are you okay?”

”Yeah,” Tony frowned at his voice, it sounded far reedier than he meant it to. He cleared his throat and repeated himself, “yeah, I guess I’m just not used to it.”

Steve gave him a lopsided sympathetic smile.

”I guess we’ll just have to make you get used to it,” came a voice from the end of the aisle.

”Have you been listening in this whole time?”

”Yup,” Bucky said shamelessly, running and sliding along the bench until he bumped into Tony’s hip, “you just need to get used to it,” Bucky grinned.

Tony didn’t like that smile. It spelled mischievous intent. It meant trouble. And Tony wasn’t wrong. Bucky tackled him off the bench, tickling mercilessly. Tony choked on laughter, begging Steve to save him. Steve joined in. Traitor.

”Out, shoo, if you are going to make so much noise!” Madam Pince was hissing at them, whacking them with her feather duster.

 

They fled the library, Tony still unable to stop laughing. Steve wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist, a one armed hug. Bucky parroted the movement, throwing his arm around Tony’s shoulders. They walked like that until they reached the courtyard. They spotted their group huddled together, sheltering themselves from the freezing winds. Tony broke away, running up to Pepper, and greeting her with a hug. Bucky could see the surprise in her face and the joy that followed immediately after. She returned the hug until Tony pulled away. Tony then high-fived Natasha and Clint, lacing the latter’s fingers with his and pulling him into a one-armed bro hug. All of them looked delighted, if fondly puzzled by this turn of events. Tony turned back to Steve with a proud grin before he settled next to Pepper. They sat together, whispering in hushed tones. Tony pulled something out of an inside pocket, sheaths of paper. Pepper whispered something to him, Natasha managing to pick up most of it.

”Is this the last you heard from him?”

Tony nodded, staring at the letters in Pepper’s hand.

”Tony, this is from over a year ago. I wouldn’t hold out hope for this year.”

Tony pushed his hair back, pulling the papers from her hand, “I know okay, I know.” He smoothed out the creases left by her hand and carefully folded them back into his pocket.

Natasha leaned across the Clint, indicating to the pair with a jut of her chin. He shook his head. She shrugged and continued watching them, sipping hot tea from a flask.

 

It was the first weekend in December, Rhodey walking with Tony to Hogsmeade. Snow was drifting down in gentle flurries, a light wind lifting Tony’s hair. They hurried, pushing their way through the inches that had already settled. Too cold to make chit-chat, they kept moving until they reached The Three Broomsticks. Tony brushed the snow from his hair as Rhodey stomped his feet to get the snow off. Tony wandered off to find a table as Rhodey got their drinks. On his return, he slid a bottle of Butterbeer to Tony, sipping his own.

”Been a while since I’ve seen you, NEWTs are killing me,” Rhodey sighed, sinking into his seat.

”Plus, you must be pretty busy as Headboy.”

Rhodey nodded tiredly, “how have you been though?”

”I’ve been okay. Been hanging out with Bucky and Steve a lot.”

Rhodey paused, the bottle just touching his lip. He lowered it slowly, looking at Tony.

”And how have they been?” he asked nonchalantly.

”Yeah, fine. We study together a lot, wandered into Hogsmeade last week to start Christmas shopping. They’re nice.”

”That’s high praise, coming from you. What’s their score?”

Tony thought for a moment, tapping a finger to his lips, “Around 6.6.”

”What’s the hold-up?” Rhodey asked curiously, taking a deep drink from his bottle, “what’s stopping them becoming level sevens?”

Tony pressed his finger to his lips in thought. Honestly he didn’t know. But that wouldn’t stop him trying to articulate it to Rhodey.

”When I’m around them, they make me nervous. Like my heart beats faster and I blush easier,” Tony’s face twisted into a grimace, “they both like each other and won’t get together. It annoys me, seeing them so miserable. Well, not annoys, it- it like makes me sad for them or something,” Tony frowned at his bottle, “I just want them to get together, so they can both be happy. I like seeing them happy.”

”So you are stopping them becoming level sevens because they won’t get together?”

”No. But like, it’s healthy to maintain some distance, right?”

Rhodey didn’t comment on that, instead he said, ”But would you like seeing them in love?”

Tony was taken aback by that. He looked at Rhodey, expecting to see a sign of laughter, a hint that he was just joking. But nope. Completely earnest, very serious.

”I don’t know, hadn’t ever considered the after stuff.”

”Consider it now.”

Tony did. He imagined cute hand-holding, and those two going on dates to the Tea Shop down the road. He imagined cuddling next to a fire, and kisses on New Years Eve. And it made his stomach twist. He was happy for them, of course he was, but some part of him hated the image he’d created for himself.

”I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “happy for them…” he trailed off, rolling the bottle between his hands.

”But?” Rhodey prompted, hearing the lack of surety in Tony’s words.

”I don’t know. I guess I’d want that too.”

”Want what?”

”Have what they would have, I think.”

”You think?”

It felt like Rhodey was trying to walk him to a conclusion and it was starting to annoy him that he couldn’t get there.

”Look Platypus, whatever you’re getting at, can you just tell me?”

Rhodey sighed deeply, “I think you’re not letting them become level sevens because you’re protecting yourself. And I think you’re protecting yourself because you like one of them.”

”Of course I like them, they’re my-”

”As more than friends, Tones. And you only call the level sevens your friends. So I think you have a crush on one of them, and you know that getting involved isn’t going to end well. So you want them together, because it closes that option for you.”

”You’re giving me far too much credit,” Tony laughed, chugging the last of his Butterbeer, “Plus, you know you’re the only one for me,” he smirked, giving Rhodey a wink.

”Fine,” Rhodey sighed, he seemed to being doing that a lot around Tony today, “but let me give you some advice. If you do like one of them - or both, I won’t judge - you shouldn’t meddle. You should let them sort it out themselves. You shouldn’t get involved in their relationship, it will end badly. Trust me on that.”

”Speaking from experience?” Tony quipped, leaning back with his eyebrow raised.

Rhodey pushed himself up from the table, “another round?”


	8. Letters from the Other Side

#  ****Chapter Eight - Letters from the Other Side** **

Tony did not like Steve _or_ Bucky that way. Nope. Nuh-uh. Did not compute (as the muggles say). They were a good match, that’s all. They should get together and soon because Tony could finally stop feeling like there was a lump in his throat when he saw them together. He didn’t like either of them. They were both good people, and both of them treated him with kindness, and affection. They were there when he needed them and they kept his secrets. They helped keep his bullies away and stood up for him when he was cornered in the corridors. Of course he was friends with them. But he didn’t _like_ them. He didn’t know why they weren’t level sevens. But he knew that they weren’t. He pondered this as they all sat at the Hufflepuff table, chatting over their last breakfast together for two weeks. The hall was nearly empty, most students having left the night before. The Christmas Holidays were just beginning, and everyone was getting excited about their plans.

”Yeah, mum managed to get Christmas off from St Mungo’s so Bucky’s staying at mine,” Steve was grinning like a lunatic.

Tony wondered idly if he was finally going to tell Bucky how he felt. No better time, no more romantic time than Christmas. Maybe Valentines, actually. But Valentines was so cliche. Christmas was too actually. Tony would like to be confessed to at New Years. A confession and a kiss at midnight. That would be romantic.

”Yeah, what about you guys?” Bucky asked Natasha and Clint.

”Well, I’ve got to deal with my brother,” Clint pulled a face, “but Natasha is staying round mine.”

”Not with your own family?” Bucky asked, turning to her.

”Orphaned,” She said, voice light and carefree as she bit viciously into a strip of bacon.

”Yup, what about you, Pep?” Clint asked.

”Back to the family for me, but unlike you, I’m excited about it.”

”Yeah, yeah, no need to rub it in,” Clint scowled at his sausages, carving them up with vigor.

”How about you, Tony?” Natasha asked.

”Staying with my Dad. My mum will say hi on Christmas, then it’s straight back to work for her,” he laughed lightly, ignoring Pepper shaking her head pityingly.

It was the same lie he told every year, to anyone who cared enough to ask. Most people were too excited about their own plans to look too deeply into his. Pepper had managed to suss him out by Third Year. He’d be spending Christmas the exact same way he spent it every year since first year. He’d visit Myrtle on the 23rd, before her ritualistic haunt of the teachers’ bathroom. On Christmas eve night he’d sleep in his own bed, the only time of year he actually could. Everyone in his dorm but him always went home for Christmas. And why wouldn’t they? There were loving families waiting for him. So he’d wake up on Christmas, never open presents, because there were rarely ones to open. No need to get excited about things that don’t exist. Any he’d been given, he’d save until the 26th. He would have already given his gifts to his friends before Christmas so he’d go to the library and study until evening. Then he’d eat a massive dinner. Then it was back to bed for one last sleep in his dorm room before the people in his dorm came back to school. Always the same. Maybe he’d do something different this year. Not likely.

”Tony?”

”Huh, what?”

”Is that your owl?”

”What owl?”

An answering bite, and blood beginning to drip down the back of hand drew his attention back to the table. He looked at the assailant. Eurasian Eagle Owl. His dad’s evil little messenger. It had a letter tied to its leg. Tony tried to undo the binding, despite the owl constantly nipping at him. Clint managed to distract it with pieces of sausage, giving Tony a chance at reading his letter. The bird took off the moment the letter was no longer attached, massive wings swooping out from its sides. Tony pulled spat out a feather.

”If that was your owl, I don’t think he likes you.”

”You think?” Tony grit his teeth, inhaling sharply as he wrapped a napkin around his hand, “That winged spawn of Satan, what on earth gave you that impression.”

”Do you know the bird?”

”Yeah, it’s my Dad’s,” and he couldn’t help the triumphant look he shot Pepper.

His dad did have a heart, it seemed. Who would have guessed? He actually remembered to write to Tony at Christmas time. Maybe to reconcile. He slid a finger under his dad’s official wax seal. The paper was heavy, definitely well-made. His dad always preferred quality __and__ quantity, that was for sure, never settling for anything less. He pulled the letter out to read just the first line. See the tone before he read the entire thing in front of people.

_Dear Master Stark,_

_I am writing to you on behalf of Mr Stark, Mister President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America. It is with regret that I inform you of the President’s decision._

Tony slid the letter back into the envelope. He excused himself quietly, frowning at the paper. Someone called out to him but he kept on walking. This didn’t seem like something that could wait. He kept walking, letting his feet carry him away. No one seemed to come after him. Maybe they sensed the letter was private. Regardless, Tony was grateful for this moment alone. They’d all be gone tomorrow. To their happy homes, with Christmas trees, and presents, and families.

 

His feet took him to the top of the clock tower. He pulled out the only other letters his father had ever sent him. Three total. All three were short, concise, to the point. This, this was too heavy to be like the others. He skimmed across the others, trying to find what he could have done. The first was dated 17th of September, six years ago.

_Anthony,_

_I’m disappointed in you. Attending that school, just like your mother. She had her flights of fancy as well, but I believed you to be above such things, more intelligent than that. Evidently, I was wrong. Please refrain from contacting me, unless absolutely necessary._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_President Howard Stark_   
_Magical Congress of the United States of America_

The second wasn’t much better. Actually, rereading it, it was far worse.

_Anthony,_

_This school is putting ridiculous ideas in your head. I will not allow my son to have muggle sympathies. You are to cease petitioning my laws and return home immediately, to resume your studies at Ilvermorny, my Alma Mater. Any argument will result in dire consequences._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_President Howard Stark_   
_Magical Congress of the United States of America_

That was his third year, maybe beginning of fourth. He wasn’t certain. Howard had been so angry at finding out about his petition that he’d forgotten to write the date. The last one was definitely fourth year, received on New Years Day.

_Anthony,_

_You have continued to ignore my guidance. You are better than muggles and you’re purer than your classmates. You need to learn this, and to stop mingling with the commoners. You have ancient and noble blood and you need to learn to respect this._

_If you have not returned Stateside by the end of the month, I will have you forcibly removed from the school._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_President Howard Stark_   
_Magical Congress of the United States of America_

He had hidden from his father when he showed up to school. He’d pretended to be a living Myrtle, stealing her look to escape. And now he had a fourth letter. He sunk to the stone floor, ignoring the cold creeping up his back. He glanced out of the clock face. Some third years were having a snowball fight across the courtyard. It seemed to be mixed with capture the flag, a black Hogwarts banner hanging from the bare tree. He steeled up his courage and turned back to the letter.

_Dear Master Stark,_

_I am writing to you on behalf of Mr Stark, Mister President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America. It is with regret that I inform you of the President’s decision._

He hadn’t even written it himself this time. Seems Tony wasn’t worth the effort anymore.

_Due to your desire to perpetually defy him, Mister President has come to the decision to disown you._

Tony’s mind went blank. He blinked and reread the sentence. Disowned. That’s what it said. He let out a shaky, high, hysterical laugh. What the actual fuck? This was a bad joke. Like _HaHaGotYouMerryChristmas _.__  This wasn’t actually happening. He and his father never saw eye to eye, but he never thought it would come to this. Never considered it an option. They were family. Sure, his dad was a militant purist, and Tony loathed and despised that about him. But Howard was his dad. He blinked at the page again. He was disowned. He no longer had a dad. His mother left him years ago to go around the world because she resented him. His birth had taken nine months off her adventures. She was determined to get that time back. His dad was all he had. And now… Now there was no one. He had no family. There was more to the page, and Tony forced himself to keep reading, just in case _psych, just joking_  was written at the bottom.

_He has also chosen to remove you from his will. You can find copies of the paperwork from both the disowning and the Will changes enclosed._

_He wishes you a Merry Christmas and all the best in your future endeavours._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Betty Brant_   
_Secretary to the President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America._

He balled up the letter, all the letters and threw them hard at the wall. He frisbeed the envelope containing all those stupid documents in the same direction, pulling his knees to his chest. He felt empty. Hollowed out. Like someone had taken all his organs and now he was just empty, wasted space. He lowered his head, pressing his eyes to his knees. The clock was ticking away, the kids outside were laughing, laughing like Tony wasn’t dying. Or laughing because he was. He could hardly breathe. He wanted the world to stop. To let him catch up. To find a way to fix things, fix this. He uncurled, reached for the letters, trying to tell himself that he should keep them, use them as blackmail. But that wasn’t why he wanted them. It wasn’t that. He knew that, really. They were all he had left of his family. That and the very first copy of his Mum’s book. He smoothed out the sheets of paper, trying desperately to remove the creases. Show respect to them in a way he’d never managed to show his father. Air was too thin and there was noise everywhere. Everything ached and nothing mattered. It was too much. He folded the letters, tucking them all into the envelope. Keep your weaknesses close, keep them guarded. They were placed right back against his heart. And it hurt. He felt empty but his heart was there. His heart was right under the letters that told him he didn’t have a father anymore. Not legally. He was alone, truly. He wasn’t wanted by the people biologically programmed to love him. He curled back into himself, turning his head and resting it on his knees to stare out the window. He watched the game outside blankly.

 

“Has anyone found him yet?” Pepper asked frantically.

Everyone shook their heads. Clint, Bucky, and Steve had managed to gather a search party. Going by the haunted look on Tony’s face as he left, he wouldn’t surface unless found. And they all wanted to make sure he was found by the right people. Hammer seemed to be looking for Tony too, from what Jane had mentioned. Natasha moved to the front of the crowd.

”Okay, split into pairs. Everyone pair will take a corridor. Each half of a pair will take opposite sides of a corridor, swapping sides when the reach the end. Every nook must be searched, every cupboard, bathroom, secret passageway. Talk to the paintings, ask the ghosts. Now pair up.”

Natasha and Clint took the dungeons and kitchens, Steve and Bucky took the seventh floor. Pepper and Rhodey stuck to the ground floor. Thor and Jane decided to search the lawn and gardens.

”Check around the edge of the forest,” Bucky suggested.

At the confused look, Steve added, “we think he’s breeding Acromantula.”

FitzSimmons said they’d search the library. Daisy said she’d search the first floor with Angela. Doreen Green and her friend Kamala agreed to cover the second floor. Bruce Banner agreed to look through the third floor, promising he’d be thorough. Peter Parker followed his example, volunteering to cover the fourth floor alone as well.

”We don’t have enough people, it will have to be done this way,” Bruce had reasoned.

Pepper managed to rope in a blond girl called Bobbi Morse, and Natasha had made a deal with Elecktra to get her to join them. They agreed to cover the Sixth floor together. 

”I’m sure my kin will be overjoyed to help,” Thor boomed over the crowd.

Loki seemed to materialise next to him.

”Do not volunteer my services, Odinson, but yes. I do rather admire Master Stark. One of the few who can defeat you in dueling. I’ll search the Astronomy Tower.”

”What about Carol? From Quidditch?” Steve asked Thor, “Do you think she’d help?”

”Aye, the maiden always comes to aid those in need.”

And so they managed to rope in Carol Danvers and with her, Jessica Drew, the pair agreeing to search the fifth floor. That left Darcy all alone to tackle the Greenhouses.

 

She trekked through, feeling like a explorer. She hadn’t been in here since she passed her OWL in Herbology. Something was snaking up her back and across her shoulder. She slapped away a tendril of Venomous Tentacular, severing it viciously with her wand. She was not in the mood to be dealing with annoying plants. She looked in every giant plant pot, under every work bench. From Greenhouse 1 through to Greenhouse 7. By the time she was finished, she had compost covering her left leg, manure on her boot, a painful rash around her wrist, and a headache from smelling a seemingly innocent looking flower. She left, feeling sullen and disappointed in herself. She just hoped the others had managed to find him since she seemed to be out of luck. She walked back through the courtyard, sitting down on a snow covered bench. She watched the kids throw their snowballs, bewitching several to hit players from behind instead of in front. That gave her a bit of a giggle. She wondered if the others had finished their searches yet. She looked up at the clock. It was just about the strike six o’clock, almost time for dinner. And she’d missed lunch. Surely Tony would surface for food. She stared up at the clock again, squinting a little. She thought she caught movement, just slightly, from the bottom left corner. It could be a bat or an owl, or god forbid a rat. A thought struck her as the clock struck six. Had anyone thought to check the clock tower? She didn’t think anyone had said they’d search up there. So she walked through the fight, mercifully sparing the punk that hit the back of her head with a snowball.

 

Tony heard footsteps on the stairs. He hastily wiped his cheeks, pressing the heel of his palm to his eyes. He wasn’t crying. It was dusty, a lot of dust. And he had allergies. Allergies, not tear ducts.

”Is anyone up there?” a female voice called.

He recognised that voice. He didn’t answer. Instead he prayed the footsteps would go away and leave him alone. But they didn’t. Instead they climbed up, the sound of each step echoing around the clock tower.

”Tony, you up here?” she called again.

Dark hair poked just into Tony’s view. Darcy. Cute, loud Slytherin girl. He really didn’t want to talk to her right now. She was just too… too much for him right now.

”Tony, thank god I found you. Half our year is looking for you.”

”Please don’t tell them I’m here. I want to be alone.” Tony didn’t look up at her. Instead his eyes were fixed on the snowball fight like it was the only thing that ever existed. Mostly he didn’t want her to see the bloodshot eyes he was sure he had. 

”Okay,” she agreed before heading back downstairs.

And that was it. He was alone.

 

Tony jumped. A very cold hand was on his knee.

”Sorry,” Darcy laughed tensely, “I’ve been outside and forgot my gloves.”

Tony nodded, turning back to look outside.

”I told the others that I found you and that you’re fine. They wanted to know where you were but I said you needed time to yourself.”

”Some _alone_ time.”

”Exactly, so here I am.”

”Darcy,” Tony tried to explain as patiently as he could, “when I said alone I meant without you as well.”

”I’m not going,” she answered breezily, pulling her cloak tightly around her with a shiver.

”Leave me alone!” he snapped at her.

She looked taken aback by his tone. She’d never seen him be anything but polite.

”No,” she replied stubbornly, “I’m not leaving you alone like this. You don’t have to talk, that’s fine. But I’m not going anywhere.”

And the fight just left him. Darcy could almost see his fighting spirit leave his body and float away into the air.

”Fine, do what you like. Just don’t get anyone else.”

Darcy settled herself next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Twenty minutes later he was leaning his head on hers. She heard something, so quiet she was almost sure it was the wind. But no, he’d said it. A softly uttered ‘thanks’.

 

She hadn’t meant to doze off. Maybe it was an adrenaline come-down. But she was still leaning on Tony’s shoulder, though he was no longer on her.

”Wake up sleeping beauty,” he urged, “my shoulder’s stiff.”

She woke up, everything aching. Serves her right, sleeping on cold stone in a clock tower.

”How long was I out?”

Tony looked at the clock face, “about twenty minutes.”

”That’s not too bad,” she yawned, stretching her arms high above her head. Her stomach growled loudly. “How about we get some food?”

”Sure,” Tony grinned, cheap and plastic, a fake imitation of his usual small smile.

Darcy was sure the shivers down her spine were from more than just the cold stones.

 

They reached the kitchen. And it seemed to be the place the group had decided to meet. Tony walked through the portrait, arms crushing him from every direction. Words were being spoken at him, too loud, too fast. He couldn’t keep up.

”Give him some air.”

Someone was pulling the arms off, and someone else was guiding him to a table with their hand on the small of his back. The hand lowered him into a seat. He still couldn’t focus on what was being said around him. Someone new knelt in front of him, using their hands to frame around his face, blocking the rest of the room from view. Tony blinked and vision came back, bursting into overexposed brightness, like a bad picture. Rhodey was in front of him, his hands warm against Tony’s face.

”Tony, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Tony fixed that smile to his face. It felt flashy, a gimmick of a smile. He used to be so much better at this, when he had to do it regularly. When he was ten.

”Nothing’s wrong, Rhodey-honey. I’m fine.”

”I’d believe you more if you hadn’t been missing for most of the day after getting a letter from _him_ ,” Rhodey pulled him towards him, hugging him tightly, “please don’t scare me like that, never again.”

Tony nodded, not really sure if he meant it. After all, wasn’t he meant to be alone? Steve and Bucky were sat on either side of him, both wrapping arms around his waist. Rhodey gave them a curious look, and Tony was certain that he also gave them a look that threatened to kill if they did anything to upset Tony more.

”We know you were going to see your dad for Christmas, but Steve and I were wondering-” Bucky started off nervously.

”But we were wondering if you wanted to come back to mine for Christmas,” Steve finished for him, “we’d have to leave tomorrow.”

Tony nodded mechanically, not really knowing what he was agreeing to. He was on autopilot.

”Yeah, I’ll need to contact my father, let him know.”

”He’ll be okay with that?”

’He’ll be overjoyed,’ Tony thought bitterly, ‘knowing that I’m not going to turn up at his door in the near future.’

”Sure, I just need to use a fireplace.”

He moved to step out the room, Pepper on his heels. She motioned for everyone around her to remain seated.

 

Tony reached an empty room and waited for Pepper to ask. Only she didn’t. She took his hand and kissed his cheek.

”Whatever happened, we can fix it.”

Tony saw red. He was tired, and confused, and so so angry. He was tired of being told things would be alright, that karma would find a way. That wasn’t something that ever happened.

”THIS CAN’T BE FIXED,” He screamed, and he could feel magic in the air cracking around him.

He needed to calm down. He couldn’t do this, not around Pepper. One of his closest friends. It wasn’t fair on her. He had to tell her.

”What did he do?” She asked calmly, pushing him into a chair.

”I’m not his son anymore. He disowned me.”

Pepper gasped, hands jumping to her mouth, “are you sure?”

Tony leveled her with a look.

”Right, right, of course. Was that what the letter was about?”

He nodded, staring at his hands as he clasped them together in his lap.

”Tony, I’m so sor-”

”Don’t, don’t say your sorry. You were right,” he told her sadly, “you were right. He was a terrible dad. He didn’t even tell me himself. He got his secretary to write the letter. That’s how much I’m worth to him.”

”Tony,” she didn’t say anything else.

They sat together in silence. Pepper was hugging him and Tony was clinging to her. He wasn’t alone, he reminded himself. He had Pepper, his chosen sister. And that’s when it hit him. That’s what level seven meant to him. They were his chosen few, his selected family. After half an hour Rhodey came looking for them.

”What happened?”

Tony sighed, devoid of any emotion now. He was too tired to go through everything again.

”Pepper, please can you tell him,” he begged, “I’m going back to the others.”

 

The kitchen was silent until he returned. Everyone stood as he entered. He couldn’t do this again. Not out loud and not in his head. It didn’t make sense to him. He didn’t think he could form a solid cognitive thought anymore. He felt shell shocked, not even fully in his body anymore. Like some part had stuck to the letter and was folded away, hidden from the public eye. No one asked him about anything. He was grateful for that.

”Let’s get you packed,” Bucky suggested.

Good, he needed the distraction. But… packed for what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh Heh Heh


	9. Sticky Fingers

#  ****Chapter Nine - Sticky Fingers** **

He didn’t like this. He didn’t dislike it either. He just, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Bucky and Steve were unpacking their bags around him, carelessly moving around each other. He was in the middle of a small-ish living room. The walls were painted bright emerald green with softer pastel shades rag-rolled over the top. It felt artsy, making the whole room feel brighter. It felt like a home. The two sofas were soft leather, creamy and inviting and adorned in fluffy cushions. One of the sofas was pushed under the window with the other perpendicular. They were pushed against an end table tucked in the corner. A Christmas tree was balanced precariously on the table, the tip of it brushing the ceiling. It was covered in fairy lights and baubles. Muggle style. The wooden floors beneath his feet were polished pine, bright and light. French Doors opened inwards, metal railing providing the flat with a faux balcony to let them look over the London Streets. Tony clasped his messenger bag to his chest. He couldn’t think of a time he’d felt more out of place.

”Make yourself at home,” Steve said easily.

He really didn’t know how to do that. This is the first time he’d been anywhere but around Hogwarts in years. He rarely even went to ~~his Dad’s~~  Howard’s for summer, spending most of the time bumming around Europe. He clasped his bag tighter, unable to stop his eyes darting around the room. Bucky managed to take the bag from him, throwing it to the sofa. And now Tony didn’t know what to do with his hands. A cup was being pressed into them, Steve smiling and ruffling his hair as he passed. The warmth stole up his fingers and he could smell the robust smell of his favourite drink.

”Coffee?” Steve offered to Bucky.

”Don’t suppose you’ve got Coke?”

Steve walked over to the little kitchenette unit, opening and rummaging through the fridge. He shook his head, “Sorry, just diet.”

”Diet’s cool.”

Steve tossed a silver can across the room, Bucky catching it with two hands. It seemed so easy for them. They didn’t find any of this strange. Tony stepped backwards slightly. He wanted a corner. Less people can reach you from a corner. He was in the middle of the room, completely exposed from every angle. Steve started giving him a brief tour, mostly consisting of pointing at doors and telling him what was behind them. Steve’s mum wasn’t meant to return until later in the evening.

”Anyone hungry? I can do baked apples, I think.”

Steve was still search the contents of the fridge, pulling out a packet of apples to set aside.

”Sure, I could eat,” Bucky answered, flopping down on to the sofa and grabbing a weird little black box covered in tiny buttons.

”Tony, how about you?”

Tony didn’t answer. He was too busy watching what Bucky was doing. He pressed a red button near the top of the box and a wider box across the room burst into light. Someone was sat at a desk, talking about things happening in the muggle world. Bucky pressed a series of buttons and the thing on the box changed. Now they were watching a group of six people sit on a horrible orange sofa in a coffee shop. Something brushed his arm, causing him to jump violently. Pain seared itself into his arms, heat soaking through his jumper. He curled in on himself, pulling his arms to his chest. Something smashed next to him, but fuck he didn’t care. His arms felt like they were burning.

”Shit Tony, I’m sorry.”

The coffee. The coffee he’d been holding, he spilt it all up his arms. Steve was dragging him and apologising on repeat. He pulled the jumper off Tony. Wincing at the sight of the blistering, Steve gently pulled Tony’s arms under the freezing cold spray of his shower. The cold bit at him but after a few seconds it soothed the sting. Tony sat on the edge of the bath, holding his arms under the icy spray.

”Bucky, do we have anything to treat burns?” Steve called out, poking his head round the door frame. 

”Nothing.”

”Shit,” Steve said through gritted teeth.

”Language,” Tony teased, wincing as he repositioned his arms, “Steve, I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

”Just because you’ve had worse, it doesn’t make you fine,” Steve argued, frustration building at his own helplessness.

”It wasn’t your fault,” Tony said kindly, “I just have really over-active reflexes. And can you tell Bucky to bring my bag, please?”

”Not leaving already are you?” Steve joked.

But Tony heard it. He heard the fear that Tony was going, he heard the worry, the concern, the guilt, all of that and more. He heard Steve care.

”Nah, but I have something that should help.”

Steve poked his head back out the door, asking Bucky to bring the bag. Bucky ran in, the bag slung over his shoulder.

”What do you need?” he asked, placing a hand on Tony’s knee.

Tony pulled his arms out the shower, a chill washing over him, “in the side pocket, there’s a glass bottle, blue wax seal. Can you grab it?”

Bucky rooted around the bag, managing to find it quickly. He held up the bottle, looking for Tony to verify it was the right one. It was blood red, thick and syrupy as Bucky swirled it around the bottle to examine it.

”Yep, that’s the one. Can you open it please? I would but,” he held up his hands, covered in angry red skin with blisters already forming across the palm.

Bucky handed the bottle to Tony, who poured some into the palm of his right hand.

”This is going to suck,” he said through gritted teeth.

Clenching his jaw, he rubbed up his left forearm. He was biting his lip so hard it bled.

”Tony, talk to us, what are you doing?” Bucky encouraged.

”After,” he took a deep breath, swallowing hard against the wave of nausea he felt. Must be the pain, “after Hammer took a particular disliking to me, I got this. It really fucking helps.”

”What does it do?” Steve asked.

”It’s a healing potion. Based around essence of Dittany, but- _shit_ ,” he hissed under his breath. He couldn’t do this.

”Tony!” they both cried out, hands reaching for him.

” _Fuck_ , sorry, you don’t like swearing but _fuck _.__ ”

”What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, taking one of Tony’s hands gently.

He massaged careful circles into the palm. Tony sagged in front of him, almost collapsing into him. Tony lay his head in the crook of his neck and was breathing carefully.

”Does this hurt?”

A tiny shake of his head. Steve delicately maneuvered his other arm, pouring an ample amount into his palm. It made his skin tingle, like it was coming into contact with menthol. He followed Bucky’s lead, massaging the right arm as Bucky focused on the left. Tony was breathing heavily, trying to force himself through the pain. This potion works, he knows it does. But it also comes with some pain first.

”So it’s a healing potion?” Steve asked, trying to keep Tony talking.

”Yuh-huh, the base of it is essence of dittany,” he clenched his jaw.

He couldn’t think properly. Bucky was rubbing at a spot that fucking killed, right between his index and middle fingers. He was trying so hard not to scream.

”Based around dittany,” he managed to say after a few minutes,” if you add striped Carnation flowers, Murtlap essence, unicorn mane hair - it has to be from the mane, mint leaves and coconut water, you create this.”

”What does it do?”

”It repairs the body- _shit _,”__ Steve had pressed on a nerve, the shock and pain coursing into him, “it repairs the body. Dittany heals wounds but this-” he held off a whine, “this was developed to cure vampires and werewolves. Dittany mixed with silver can cure a werewolf bite, but if you add silver to this it will cure them, even after their first transformation. Usually, there’s no going back after that. Add holy water instead and it cures vampirism.”

”Why hasn’t this been published yet? I’ve never even heard of it!” Bucky exclaimed excitedly.

Tony shrugged. The pain was easing. He breathed a sigh of relief. The red in his skin was going and the mint left a soothing feeling along his arms.

”It’s not published yet, because I need to have my results verified first. It needs to go through rigorous testing before it can be allowed to reach the public. I’ve only managed to conduct preliminary studies.”

”You, you’ve conducted studies?” Steve asked.

Tony rolled his eyes, “of course, I invented it.”

Both of their mouths fell open, eyes wide and bulging. Tony shrugged. It was no big deal. He’d completed his work on it sometime last year. It was old news, in his mind. He managed to help some volunteers who agreed to assist him in his work. That was worth it.

”You told me months ago that there’s no cure for lycanthropy,” Steve looked curious and a little hurt.

Tony nodded, “yeah, we weren’t friends then. Why would I share the details of my unpublished, easily stolen, very profitable potion?”

”He’s got a point,” Bucky nudged Steve.

Tony rinsed his arms of in the shower, completely healed. Not a blister or burn, not a scar left to mark what happened. Didn’t mean the pain and shock to his system hadn’t worn him out.

”Not that I’m going to use it for profit. That isn’t fair on Lycanthropes or Vampires.”

They both nodded at him approvingly. Steve passed Bucky a towel and they began toweling his arms dry.

”I can do things for myself now.”

”Indulge us,” Bucky said simply, smiling up at Tony.

Tony prayed neither of them noticed him blush. Tony sniffed the air. Something was burning.

”Steve,” Tony frowned at the door, “were you cooking something?”

”SHIT!” Steve bolted out the door.

”Language,” Bucky and Tony chorused at him.

 

Bucky was eating a slightly charred apple, the smell of caramelised (and burnt) sugar in the air. Tony curled up next to him. His toes were wedged under Bucly’s thigh, trying to keep the winter chill off them. Steve’s lap had Tony’s head placed in it, idly petting him as they watched some old comedy show on the box that Steve had called a TV. Tony had yet to cover that in muggle studies.

”Your mother is a hamster! And your father smells like Elderberries!”

Tony loved having people play with his hair. And he loved hearing Bucky laugh and feeling Steve’s rumble of a chuckle. He loved this. He wanted it to be like this forever. Shit! This is what Rhodey had meant in Hogsmeade last month. This wasn’t his to have forever. He pulled himself up, trying to think of an excuse to leave. Hell, he’d improvise an excuse.

”I forgot to get your mum anything for Christmas, I’m going to look for something.”

He walked swiftly to the door, pulling on a coat. Something growled at him. But it didn’t sound threatening. He turned, seeing Bucky look at Steve in astonishment. Steve had turned a bright scarlet, dropping his eyes and staring at the floor.

”Sorry, it’s just, that’s my coat.”

Tony hadn’t even realised. But he was right, the sleeves were too long. Bucky handed Tony his coat, and wrapped a scarf round his neck.

”We’ll come too, we know Aunt Sarah better than you do, we’ll help you pick something out.”

Great. He wants distance and this pair don’t get it. Why don’t they want to be together? They could finally ask each other out if Tony cleared off. He’d just have to ditch them down Diagon Alley. Impromptu shopping trip it would have to be.

 

“Oooh, cool, look at this?” Bucky dragged Steve to a shop window, hands clasped together.

Tony had been watching them do this for nearly an hour. They had fallen into a cycle and it was boring Tony. One of the would drag the other to a shop window, clasping their hands. Both would be reluctant to let go, but would drop the other’s hand like hot coal the moment they’d been shown the item. Both regretted the action, their hands remaining close. Rinse and repeat.

” _Epoximise _,__ ” Tony hissed at them, wand aimed for their hands.

They both tried to let go, neither able to. Perfect. Now they were forced to hold hands. Maybe that would make them go ‘hey, this might be the perfect time to tell this person I like that I like them.’ Maybe not. But either way, it gave Tony an opportunity to go off by himself. They had both turned to look at him in confusion, opening their mouths to see if he knew a counter-curse. He grinned brightly at them.

”Now, I really shouldn’t do your work for you. Toodles,” he waved goodbye with a wiggle of his fingers.

He hid himself in the crowd, the pair unable to keep up since they had to walk two abreast. Tony ran into _Quality Quidditch Supplies _.__  He wanted to get something extra for Steve and Bucky, as well as their mum. It only took a few seconds of searching before Tony found something perfect for Steve. Brand new Keeper’s gloves, made of soft, very supple brown leather. A small sign said for a small additional charge, the shop could personalise the items. He quickly paid for his item, the shopkeeper telling him he could pick it up within the hour. Tony smiled gratefully, wandering down the street, hoping for inspiration to strike. He’d already gotten them presents. Steve, he’d bought a set of acrylic paints. Bucky was slightly harder. He had already gotten him an early edition of _Bestiarium Magicum_. He couldn’t get him _another_ textbook. He wasn’t that dull. He wandered into a dark looking shop, the bell above the door ringing. Instantly he was assaulted with a cacophony of noise. Squawking and shrieking, meowing and whooping, barking and hissing. Tony grinned. _The Magical Menagerie_ was perfect for Barnes. He searched methodically down the aisle. He had to rule out anything too big, anything too difficult or time consuming to care for, anything too dangerous. That didn’t leave much left. But he found it, after a twenty minute search of the shop. In a tiny cage, a ball of custard-coloured fluff bounced around happily. Tony turned to the shopkeeper.

”You sure you want that one?” The shopkeeper asked gruffly.

Tony nodded with a smile, “definitely. I think it’s cute.”

”It was the runt. It’s mother abandoned it, and no one’s wanted it.”

”That doesn’t matter, I’m sure my friend will love him.”

The keeper shrugged, preparing the little ball of fur for its new home. Tony handed over the money needed.

”I’ll have him ready in ten minutes.”

”Great,” Tony smiled, “I’ll be right back.”

Just something left for Sarah Rogers. He actually could use Steve’s help for this, but hi-ho he was hoping they’d get together by the end of the day. He ducked into an Alcove, after hearing shouts of his name. Steve came rushing past, Bucky still in tow. They were holding hands but neither was looking particularly pleased. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. He aimed his wand, casting the counter for the spell. They fell apart, both giving their separated hands an appreciative glance. Then they went back to calling his name. Tony stepped out of his hiding place, giving them a large wave. He rushed over, forcing his face into a worried expression.

”I’m so glad I found you, I ducked into a shop and then you were gone.”

Neither seemed to be buying it.

”Fine, I stuck your hands together for a laugh.”

And neither looked happy. Suddenly this felt like a massive mistake. He wanted to go, to leave. To get as far away from here as he could.

”I’m sorry,” he couldn’t look at them, staring at his shoes.

They were mad, they were so mad. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t fix anything. But he could fake it. It was like he slid a mask over his face, smile snapping into place. He lifted his head with a grin.

”Bad joke, I know. But at least you didn’t lose each other. I still have to pick up a few things, I’ll meet you in _The Leaky Cauldron_.”

He sped off before they could answer, picking up his things. He quickly cast an undetectable extension charm to his bag, fitting in the creature’s cage with ease. He ended up in _The Junk Shop_  looking at wonky scales and broken wands. Anything to delay seeing the pair of them again. He wandered for a moment, among the odds and ends that found their way here. An old mantel clock was perched on a shelf, covered in dust. It had sales labels all over it. Broken apparently, like much of the stuff here. But the design was fascinating. It didn’t tell time but instead it told you about the happiness of those you affixed to the clock, turning each person into a hand. All the hands were blank and stuck to miserable. He thought maybe Sarah would like it. Steve seemed to speak of her with such love and respect, she must adore her son. Being so far away all the time would be difficult, for a loving family. He handed over the sickles for the clock, hiding it away in his bag. He headed back for the leaky cauldron, aging himself with every step until he hit about thirty. Tony saw himself in the mirror over the bar. He looked like his dad, and wasn't that a horrible thought. He walked up to the bar.

”Hi, don’t suppose you have a bottle of fire whiskey and blackcurrant and elder-flower wine I could buy?”

”Last minutes gifts?” the barman asked.

”You guessed it,” he gave the barman a secretive grin, “please tell me you can help me out, I’ve tried every other place.”

”I’m your man,” the barman laughed, pulling out the two desired bottles from under the bar.

”Life saver,” Tony laughed conspiratorially, “you have no idea the grief you saved me from with the in-laws.”

”They a bit of work?”

”More than a bit,” Tony grinned again, handing over the money for the bottles plus a large tip, “I’ll see you around.”

He placed the bottles carefully in his bad, careful of the clock and the creature and Steve’s present. He hid in the bathroom, making himself look like himself. Time to face the punishment for his little game. He’d been allowed a stay of execution, now it was time to see if he was in for the noose or the chop.

 

“What if you’d gotten lost?!”

”What if you’d ended up down Knockturn Alley?!”

Tony accepted the yelling in silence, walking a pace behind the pair as they shouted at him. They hadn’t once mentioned the sticking spell but they were probably just building up to that.

”Do you even know your way around London?!”

”Do you even know how dangerous it is to be a pure-blood now?!”

”And you are one hell of a pure-blood, what if they kidnapped you to blackmail your mum and dad?!”

Tony almost laughed at that. Like hell would either of them do shit. He’d fight his way out, the same way he’d been fighting for himself since he was eleven.

”What if we’d gone home without you?! Would you even make it back to my place?!”

He’d figure it out. He always did. He was dropping further and further behind, dragging his feet. He hadn’t meant for things to go this way. This wasn’t to plan. The yelling had stopped, Bucky sighing irritably.

”Let’s just go back. Your mum will be home soon,” he turned to Tony trying to muster up a smile, “did you manage to get her something?”

Tony nodded, falling back in step with them, still a few places behind.

 

Sarah was every bit as lovely as Tony imagined. She was bright and smiling. She apologised for still being in her uniform and kissed her son and Bucky on the cheek as a greeting. She greeted Tony with a hug, like they were old friends.

”Tony, so good to meet you. Steve talks about you a lot in his letters.”

”Muuuuuum,” Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

”Well not a lot,” Sarah backtracked, “just mentions your study groups, how much you’ve helped him. Friend stuff.”

Tony was still too thrown by her attitude to keep track of her words. She was so friendly, offering to make coffee, like she hadn’t been on her feet all day because of work. Steve told her to relax, he’ll make it. A cute little family unit. Bucky slotted in naturally. The mum, the son, and the soon to be boyfriend. Tony offered up the wine for Sarah, a thank you for her hospitality. Thankfully she didn’t question how someone underage bought alcohol. Bucky and Steve didn’t either, thank god. She told him he didn’t have to but thank you, it was her favourite. Tony felt like an observer, watching everything from the outside. Sarah started bustling about, preparing dinner. Steve and Bucky settled down next to each other. Steve’s arm was thrown along the back of the sofa, so close to being wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders. Tony wandered up to Sarah, watching her cook.

”Can I help at all?” he offered.

Sarah smiled beatifically, the same smile Steve had. It was warm and comfortable. It made a room feel safer just for her presence within it.

”No sweetheart, but thank you. Why don’t you join the boys?”

Tony watched them for a moment. Bucky’s leg was brushing against Steve’s. They were both such idiots.

”I think I’d just ruin the mood,” he whispered.

Sarah smiled at him, leaning in, using her hand to hide her words from the sofa, “So you’ve realised too.”

Tony nodded, looking at the pair. He wanted them to be happy, more than anything. More than his own happiness. He stamped on the urge to join them, to be part of a little group of three they seemed to have formed. 

”Yep, question is: do we do anything about it?”

Sarah shrugged helplessly, “Nothing I can do, I’m not with them all the time.” She had a little cheeky look in her eye, “if only there was someone I could rely on to help my poor dumb son talk to his crush.”

Tony grinned at her tone. She was teasing, light and full of laughter, despite the aura of secrecy around her.

”What are you talking about over there?” Steve asked suspiciously, glaring over the arm of the sofa.

”Presents,” Tony said quickly, “I don’t know your family’s traditions, OH,” Tony’s mind fell back to the presents in his bag, “is there a room I can work on something without being in the way?”

”Sure,” Sarah smiled sweetly, “you’re welcome to use my room until dinner. Will that give you enough time?”

Tony nodded gratefully, slinking off into the indicated room. He had a clock to fix now.


	10. Drunk on Misery and Fire Whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry for the delay, my internet went down :'( but here's chapter 10 and I hope you enjoy

#  ****Chapter Ten - Drunk on Misery and Fire Whiskey** **

The 24th rolled around sooner than anyone expected. Vegetables were chopped for the dinner the next day, saving some time on the prep. Everyone wrapped their presents in separate rooms, Tony volunteering to take the bathroom. Less space, but easier to hide things should someone come bursting in. Tactical. His presents are wrapped (except Bucky’s new pet, he bought a cover for the cage), and so now he starts doubting himself. He might have easily fucked this up. What if they all hate them? What would he do? What could he do? Nowhere in the Western World is open on Christmas. He could apparate to Japan and get them something there. Or just apparate to Japan to avoid wrecking Christmas anymore than he already had. Bucky called out from the living room, saying he was finished. Everyone placed their presents under the tree and waited for the clock to tick the day away. An owl landed at the window and dragged Sarah back to work. She promises it will only be for an hour or two and Steve told her it’s fine but Tony can tell it isn’t. It’s Christmas, of course Steve wants his mum around. Lord knows Tony wants his own. Bucky decided to take a nap in Steve’s room, complaining about a weird dream he had last night. Then it’s just Tony and Steve.

”I’m sorry,” Tony said, apropos of nothing.

Steve raised his eyebrow, arching it into a magnificent skeptical curve, “about?”

”Diagon Alley,” Tony wanders over to the french doors, opening them and letting the winter winds slap him across the face, “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have stuck your hands together. It was immature and I imagine quite awkward for you. I’m sorry, Steve.” He gripped the rail tightly, leaning as far out the doors as he could, just to hear the sounds of the street below him.

”Thanks, for apologising. I was actually going to tell him over Christmas,” Steve leaned next to him, arms folded and balancing on the rails.

Tony’s chest ached. He wanted Steve to tell Bucky. He did.

”Why don’t you?” Tony asked, before freezing, “It’s because of me, isn’t it? Me being here?”

Steve didn’t say anything. His silence was as good as a yes.

”Christ Steve, you shouldn’t have invited me then. He’s important to you!”

”You are too,” Steve replied softly.

”Not in the same way,” Tony shot back, “I can leave, I’ll leave, then you can tell him!”

Steve grabbed Tony’s wrist, spinning Tony to face him, “I invited you here because I want you here. Because I chickened out. Because I’m conflicted.”

”About what?! You’re perfect for each other.”

”That depends entirely on how he feels too.”

”I know you’re perfect for each other,” Tony replied mulishly.

”I do want you here, you know that right?”

There was something tacit in that sentence. A hidden meaning that Tony didn’t get at all. So he changed the topic to one he did get.

”Need a hand with your Transfig work?”

Out of left field but Steve nodded nonetheless. This was safe. This was what he knew. He knew books and wand work and spells. Stick to what he knows. Steve grabbed his books and Tony began his tutoring.

 

An hour passed, Sarah opening the door tiredly. She smiled at the sight in front of her. Steve lying on his stomach, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he flitted between textbook and essay. Bucky, now awake, sprawled across one of the sofas, lying on his back with a comic book held above his head to read. Tony was curled up like a cat in the corner of the sofa closest to the Christmas Tree. He was reading one of Steve’s books, a muggle story about rings and wraiths. She’d never read it herself, but Steve had talked so excitedly about it when he first read it. Before long everyone was getting ready for bed, excited for Christmas. Everyone except Tony, she noted. He seemed anxious, wringing his hands when he thought no one was looking. After Steve and Bucky went to bed, she handed Tony a cup of decaf coffee.

”What’s wrong?” she asked simply.

Tony stared down at his coffee, breathing in the steam and smell. So many things were wrong. So many things he couldn’t change or fix or stop. He settled on the easiest one. He had no right to burden Sarah with the rest of it.

”What if you- what if everyone doesn’t like their gifts?” Tony answered anxiously, rolling his cup in his hands. He always fidgeted when he got nervous.

”I may have peeked at what you got for James,” Sarah confessed with a smile, “he’s going to love it. He’s always wanted a pet. His mum had a Kneazle but the creature hated him. They normally don’t like wizards,” she sighed, taking a sip from her peppermint tea, “now I don’t know what you got Steve but you seem to care about him, care about them both deeply, so you’ve probably given it a lot of thought. I’m sure they’ll love it.”

”But what about yours?”

Sarah smiled, “you didn’t need to get me anything, but I’m certain I’ll love it. It came from you after all, my new partner in crime.”

”And by crime, you mean trying to get the numb-skulls together, right?” Tony smirked down at his cup, finally taking a drink from it.

”That’s right,” Sarah said in a sing-song tone.

Tony smiled and thanked her for the coffee. Sarah took that as her cue to go to bed. She drained her mug, setting it by the sink to wash up in the morning. Then she leaned down, stroked Tony’s hair back and kissed him on the forehead.

”Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll make sure you have a great Christmas here.”

 

And she did. Bucky and Steve had jumped out of bed at first light, stomping and banging around the living room to wake up Tony from his place on the sofa. Tony groaned, refusing to move because of some stupid sunlight. It was Christmas, his present to himself was sleep. But Bucky decided that he wasn’t allowed, plonking his stupid butt on Tony. Tony groaned again, halfheartedly trying to push Bucky off.

”Wake up! Wake up!” he shouted gleefully in Tony’s ear, “It’s CHRISTMAS!”

”I hate you,” Tony moaned, using a cushion to cover his ear.

”Nah, you love me.”

And fuck, those words coming out Bucky’s mouth felt like a stab in the gut.

”I’m up, okay, I’m up. Your screaming did the trick.”

”Great, I’ll make you some coffee. Steve’s gone to wake his mum.”

Tony closed his eyes again, pulling his blanket over his head.

”Not so fast,” Bucky yanked the blanket away, “it’s Christmas, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

”Not really,” Tony yawned, frowning, “did you and Steve sleep in the same bed?”

Bucky stared at him, ears turning red before he turned away, “yeah, but not like that, we’re just friends.”

”Just idiots, you mean.”

Tony sat up, blinking blearily around the room. It was still dark, the sun only just glimpsing into the room. The tree was lit up, casting a rainbow of light up the walls. Bucky was bustling about in the kitchen, as Sarah walked in, Steve bounding along happily beside her. With Sarah’s exhausted nod, Steve darted toward the tree. He was grinning from ear to ear as he divvied up the presents.

”You know the rules boys, no opening them until after I finish my tea.”

”We know,” Bucky agreed, handing Sarah her cup of earl grey, before handing Tony his coffee.

Tony drained his coffee, feeling more human for it. His liquid ambrosia. He was certain that if he ever smelt amortentia, it would smell like strong coffee. But alas, he’d yet to cover it in potions. Sarah sipped her tea and sat down next to him, hugging him. It was so… weird but it was a good weird. She seemed to like him. She seemed to treat him the same as Bucky, like her own adopted son. The knife that Bucky stabbed to his gut with his words, was twisted deeper by Sarah’s caring touch. This wasn’t his to keep.

”Are you done yet, muuuum?” Steve obnoxiously whined.

Sarah tipped her cup upside down. Not a drop came out. Steve grinned and began handing out the presents from each pile. Wrapped in royal blue matte paper, Steve handed Tony his first present of the year. It sat in his hands, untouched, as he watched Steve hand Bucky the present Tony got him, wrapped in shiny red and gold paper.

”Everyone got one?” Steve asked.

After a round of affirmatives, everyone but Tony began unwrapping their presents. Steve had received a book of muggle art from his mum, Sarah getting a china tea set from Bucky. But Tony’s eyes were fixed on Bucky’s hands as he slid a nail under the Spello-tape, gently unfolding the paper. He pulled the gift out from the wrapping, discarding the paper to his side. He was staring at the cover, mouth slightly agape. He was clasping a book with a silvery-white cover, black fastenings holding the book closed. His hand stroked down the spine, almost reverently. Tony shrunk back against the sofa. Bucky wasn’t saying anything. Maybe the present was a bust. Maybe he hated it. Tony couldn’t stop the thoughts swirling in his head, a tornado of negativity. Sarah placed her hand on his, squeezing gently. Smiling encouragingly, she set aside her tea set, lest it get broken in the midst of everything.

”Thank you,” Bucky turned, “Steve, thank you. This is amazing.”

Steve laughed awkwardly, “it’s not from me Buck, like I’d get you a textbook.”

”Auntie Sarah?” he asked quizzically.

She shook her head, turning to Tony. He shrunk further into his seat. Maybe he only liked it because he thought it was from Steve. Bucky moved so fast, Tony didn’t register. Arms enveloped him, Bucky hiding his face against Tony’s neck as he hugged him tightly. He was saying something, but Tony was too shocked to hear a word. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. They sort of flapped about at his sides uselessly. His present was being pressed uncomfortably into his stomach by Bucky’s weight, but he didn’t want Bucky to go. He didn’t want to lose this. When Bucky broke away, Sarah cast an odd look at all three of the boys, mercifully remaining quiet.

”Tony, you haven’t opened yours,” she prompted, giving his hands a nudge.

And god were his hands shaking. He’d never opened presents on Christmas Day before. It was an incredibly strange sensation, having people watch you as you ripped off paper. He tore away the blue paper, revealing a few muggle books. _How they met and other stories_ , and _The Maze Runner _,__ and a thick, heavy hardback. It was covered in a Houndstooth pattern. _The Complete Sherlock Holmes _.__  Steve was shifting uneasily where he was sat, fingers drumming the floor. Tony stared in wonder, immediately opening __Sherlock Holmes,__ curling around the book.

”I think that means he likes it,” Bucky teased Steve.

Tony nodded enthusiastically, though remained uncharacteristically silent. He didn’t exactly trust his voice right now. He really didn’t want to choke up or get emotional. He managed a whispered ‘thanks’ before hiding his face in the book again. Bucky handed out more presents, none of Tony’s in the mix. He could fully enjoy watching them, again neglecting his own present.  
Steve nudged his knee, “c’mon, you need to open yours too.”

”Yeah, you look like you’ve never received a present before.”

Sure he had. From Pepper and Rhodey. Clint and Natasha gave him a joint one in third year. Just… this was new. This was enough. Sharing their house, their home, their Christmas. Anything more felt greedy. But they were looking at him expectantly, Bucky prodding at his hands.

”They work Barnes,” Tony joked, wiggling his fingers to prove it.

”Just checking,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Tony ripped open the paper with little to no finesse. More books! Tony did love his books. They looked like the type of book Bucky was reading earlier. Comics, Bucky had told him. He loved them. Though he guess his face didn’t give that away.

”I asked Pepper what you liked to read, I’ve never really seen you without a book,” Bucky explained anxiously, “I hope these are okay, I know you like muggle things. If you don’t want them, I can get you something better.”

Tony stood and sat himself between the two. He hugged both of them in turn, cradling his presents to his chest, with a tiny private smile. Unbeknownst to him, Steve and Bucky exchanged overjoyed looks. They were concerned. Tony never gave himself away, never really shared much about himself. They felt like they were walking blind, trying to find a present for him.

”I’ve only got one present, so I’ll save it for the last round. I should probably make some breakfast,” Sarah stood kissing them all on the top of their heads as she passed.

Steve opened his paint supplies from Tony, and Bucky opened a new hand-knitted scarf from Sarah. Tony opened up a gorgeous set of soft woolen gloves. They fit perfectly, and were so warm.

”Made those myself,” Sarah said proudly.

”Mum took up knitting as a new years resolution.”

Tony thanked her profusely, excusing himself for the last of the presents. He hid in the bathroom. He had no more left, and all the ones that were left were from him. Less awkward to hide. He sat on the bathroom floor, curled up half under the sink, reading one of the comics Bucky had given him. It was amazing, the art - though it didn’t move - held so much life and emotion. It was about life and death and gods and magic. Muggles seemed really fascinated by magic, or anything supernatural actually. He didn’t realise how much time had passed until Steve and Bucky were banging on the door.

”If you don’t open up, I will blast this door down,” Bucky threatened.

Tony dropped the comics and opened the door as quick as he could. Steve threw himself at Tony, wrapping his arms around him. Bucky was standing at the frame, laughing loudly. One hand held a custard-coloured ball of fluff, the other was stroking it. The creature - a Puffskein - was humming loudly, happy with the attention. Tony on the other hand, was not. Steve had lifted him up with his hug, swinging him slightly. Tony could feel himself turning an awfully bright shade of red. He really wanted to curl up and hide.

”Steve, let him breathe,” Sarah gently eased her son away, a hand on Bucky’s chest to stop him taking a turn.

Steve released him, Tony landing unsteadily on the floor. Steve didn’t seem to notice anything wrong, too busy admiring his new Keeper’s gloves, name embroidered across the wrists.

”Are you alright?” she asked, crouching to meet his eye level.

He couldn’t look at her, not in the eyes. Nodding quickly, he picked up his comics, holding them to his chest with crossed arms. Sarah smiled kindly, leading him from the room.

”Boys, I think you should pack your presents up now. You don’t want to forget them when you leave.”

Steve and Bucky gathered their things and went into Steve’s room obediently. Sarah pulled Tony to the sofa, sitting him down and kneeling in front of him.

”What’s wrong?”

Tony almost burst into tears then and there. But Stark men are made of iron, as his father so often berated him. He had to stay strong.

”I- I’m just not used to this.”

”To what Sweetie?”

He thought for a moment. Everything. Family. Christmas. People thanking him for his presents, complimenting his thoughtfulness. The attention. The kindness. Not from so many people at once. Not to this level. He answered with a shrug.

”I can’t help if I don’t know how,” she said gently.

”Just, everything. All of this.”

She tilted her head, hoping he’d carry on.

”Christmas, family, all of this.”

”What’s Christmas like with your family?”

Non-existent.

”We don’t celebrate it. My parents work.”

That was sort of true. And sort of not. His dad celebrated Christmas, just never with him. He had no clue what his mum did.

”Oh sweetheart,” she hugged him, rocking back and forth, “is it too much for you?”

”Yes,” Tony answered honestly, “but I’m enjoying it. It’s just… new to me. It’s overwhelming. They keep thanking me for their presents and telling me they were thoughtful. But I didn’t do anything special.”

”Maybe not to you, but to them it means a lot. Did you know that when Steve writes home, he’s always concerned that you don’t like him, or don’t want him around?”

”But that’s not true!” he protested.

”I know, and that’s why I immediately said yes when he invited you over. Everyone has their worries and doubts. Sometimes it helps to voice them,” she stroked his hair gently, petting him a little like a cat, “And your present meant a lot to me too, by the way.”

”Really?” Tony perked up.

She had placed the clock on the kitchen counter, Steve and Bucky’s hands pointing at exuberant - the second highest they could be - Sarah’s was wavering between exuberant and worried.

”It’s extremely thoughtful. I do worry about my son, and now I can keep tabs on him. But you aren’t on it.”

Tony mumbled something about thinking it presumptuous to give himself a space on the clock. But Sarah took the clock and added a hand for Tony, the hand instantly dropping to surprised.

”You are always welcome here, my little partner in crime.”

 

They had Christmas dinner, and then, just like that, Christmas was over. And it was the best one Tony had ever had. Night came, and everyone retired to their rooms. Everyone except Tony. He got a tumbler from the kitchen, flicked off all the lights but those on the tree, and pulled out his bottle of fire whiskey. It was a perfect day, a perfect Christmas, a perfect family. But it wasn’t ever going to be for him. He poured a more than generous amount into his glass, drinking it in the dark. His family was who knows where. His father was probably in his office at MACUSA, yelling at employees. He hadn’t heard from his mum in years. She could be dead and Tony wouldn’t even know. He drained his glass. It burnt like hell down his throat. They don’t call it Fire Whiskey for nothing. A copious amount was tipped in, a second glass, the bottle making a glug sound as it gasped for air. His family didn’t want him. They didn’t love him. Maybe he was simply unlovable. He should give up. On love. And part of him screamed for him to give up everything. Give up hope. Tony raised his glass in the air, a toast to his father.

”Merry-fucking-Christmas,” he said softly, not wishing to wake anyone up, “may you live a long life, you bastard.”

He closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he drained his second glass. Only to pour a third. The world blurred a little, like an out of focus camera. He drank half of the third glass before holding it up to the fairy lights. Their colours distorted by the brown liquor. Tony drained the third. He tipped the bottle, nearly overfilling the glass. He picked it up, the whiskey spilling over his hand. He licked it off, appreciating the burn the drink left in its wake. He raised his glass in toast again.

”Merry Christmas Mum, may you find adventure and happiness this coming year.”

He downed the glass. The room was becoming steadily fuzzier; his words beginning to slur together. Steve’s door clicked open, Bucky padding out gently. He shot a glance to the sofa.

”Oh, you’re still up,” he reached for the light switch.

”Could- could we not do light right now?”

Bucky heard the sound of glass on glass and something heavy set down on the coffee table. Then the sound of Tony gulping down something like his life depended on it. Bucky wandered over, sitting so the tree illuminated Tony in profile. He saw the glass in his hand, saw it quickly emptied.

”What’cha drinkin’?”

Tony handed him the glass, pouring a measure for Barnes, before swigging from the bottle. Bucky sniffed it cautiously, recoiling at the strong scent.

”Is this alcohol?”

”Fire whiskey,” Tony answered blandly, taking Bucky’s glass and drinking it for him.

”Are you okay?”

”Fine,” he answered, voice robotic.

”Then why all this?” Bucky wiped his thumb under Tony’s eyes, catching tears as they fell.

Tony touched his cheek, finger tips coming away wet. He hadn’t realised. He swiped them away angrily with the back of his wrist, turning away from Bucky as he did.

”I’m fine,” Tony said. But it was high and reedy, pitch broken by a crack in his voice. “ Just dandy. I’m always okay. Stark men are made of Iron. That’s what my dad always said, but whoops he’s not my dad anymore.”

”What do you mean?” Bucky frowned.

Tony’s tone was verging on deranged, hysterical, “my old man, he disowned me a week ago,” he put on a deep commanding voice, “Merry Christmas my boy, this year I got you complete and utter abandonment, hope you like it, because there’s no exchanges or refunds.”

”Oh Tony,” Bucky murmured voice laden with sympathy.

There wasn’t anything else to say.

”It’s fine. My mum’s already gone, I should have seen it coming,” he stood, bumping into the coffee table. He giggled, shushing it quietly. He turned back to Barnes, the expression fading immediately into a blank stare. “I’m alone. I’m meant to be. The people I love don’t love me.”

Bucky hooked his arm around Tony’s waist before he staggered away too far.

”They don’t love me. No one does.”

Bucky drew a deep breath, “I love you.”

”Not in the right way,” Tony snapped.

”Maybe not,” Bucky sighed, “But I still love you anyway.”

”Kiss me,” Tony gripped at Bucky’s dressing gown, pulling him close.

”I can’t do that,” Bucky tried to pull Tony’s hands away.

”Would you kiss me if I looked like him?” Tony asked, changing his features into the one person he knew beyond doubt that Bucky loved.

Bucky recoiled, a look of fear plastered across his face, “how did you-”

”Metamorphagi, I can look like anyone. Even Steve.”

”I’m not kissing you, Tony,” Bucky looked stern, pulling Tony’s hand off his dressing gown and clasping them in his own.

Tony let his appearance fall back to his own. He wasn’t good enough as Steve, he wasn’t good enough as himself. He had to find a version that was worthy.

”I know,” Tony gave him a watery laugh, “you love him. I’m nothing more than a cheap substitute.”

Bucky shook his head angrily, “don’t ever say that about yourself,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “you are not a substitute for anyone. You are you, and you are perfect the way you are. I’m not kissing you because you’re drunk. I’m not taking advantage. You’re lonely and feeling abandoned.”

”What are you, my therapist?” Tony grumbled, “Don’t tell me how I feel, __idiot__ ,” he punctuated the last word with a weak shove at Bucky’s stomach.

Bucky continued as though he said nothing, “I love Steve, yes, but I love you too, and god help me, I’m confused as fuck.”

”You’re perfect together,” Tony said sadly, pulling his hands away from Bucky’s, “choose him. It was always going to be him.”

Tony grabbed the bottle, tipping more into his glass. He downed it in one, smiling lopsided at Bucky.

”I love you and I love him too, but there’s no place for me. Not next to you, not next to him either.”

”Tony-”

”Don’t try and say otherwise. We know it’s true. Can I go back to drinking alone now?”

Bucky shook his head, cupping the back of Tony’s neck and pulling him close. Tony took a shuddering breath. He was done. With this, with everything, with feeling this way. He couldn’t handle it. He inhaled deeply, trying to fix this in drunken memory. He was certain it wouldn’t stay but he wanted to have it now. So he inhaled deeply, trying to remember every detail. He could smell hot chocolate with nutmeg. He knew, he knew he was too drunk for any of this to remain. So he pulled out his wand.

” _ _Obliviate,__ ” he whispered.

If he can’t remember, it would be unfair on Barnes to carry this burden alone. He shouldn’t have to remember this either. He took the night from him. Barnes would only remember falling asleep in Steve’s room.

”I want to sleep,” Tony said quietly, pushing Bucky away, “and you need to sleep too.”

Bucky nodded absently, wandering back into Steve’s room. The door closed quietly and Tony let himself pass out.

 

The next morning, all he knew was he opened a bottle of fire whiskey last night and he really needed to vomit right now. He staggered into the bathroom just in time. He fell to his knees and threw up potentially everything he ever ate in his lifetime. The sun wasn’t even up. He bitterly glared at the window, pressing his head into the cool porcelain of the sink. He was breathing heavily through his nose. He retched again over the bowl, but he had nothing left to throw up. He lowered the lid and flushed, destroying the evidence. He walked slowly back into the living room. It smelt so strongly of whiskey, Tony almost threw up again. He emptied the remains - though there wasn’t much left - down the sink, vanishing the bottle. He wiped down on the counters, the coffee table, every surface he could. He threw open windows to get some air. He felt better, fresher. He cleaned his clothes with a quick spell, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a fluffy pale blue towel. He showered and felt nearly as good as new. He craved for coffee, but didn’t want to risk it yet. He curled up on the sofa and fell asleep instantly.

 

The rest of the time passed quickly. Bucky had given him a weird look the following morning but nothing much was spoken. 

Only a passing, “did we talk last night?” from Bucky.

”I don’t think so,” Tony shook his head, not looking up from _Sherlock Holmes._

Bucky thought for a moment, “must have dreamed it,” shrugging off the entire idea.

 

Soon it was time for them to return to Hogwarts. They rode the train back, sharing a compartment. Tony kept quiet, absorbed in his new books. Bucky was petting his Puffskein, trying to think of a name.

”How about Tony II?”

”That makes it sound like you had one before called Tony and someone decided to use it for bludger practice.”

”Hmm, alright then… Tony, what’s your middle name?”

Tony didn’t respond, too absorbed in his book. He didn’t even register that his name was mentioned.

”His middle name’s Edward.”

”How do you know?”

”He told me during detention once.”

”But that’s perfect, my puffskein has a name. He’s Edward. Or Eddie!”

The rest of the journey was spent playing with Eddie, and Tony reading quietly in the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe I'm posting a Christmas chapter in August
> 
> :S


	11. Magnetised Instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after two songs by Emma Blackery. I’ve been listening to her on repeat while I wrote this and I feel that some of the lyrics really capture to mood. I 100% recommend giving them a listen. Links to them at the end <3

#  ****Chapter Eleven - Magnetised Instead** **

“Rhodey, did you have a good Christmas?” Tony bounced over to his friend, meeting him in front of Honeydukes.

”Yeah, my mum and aunt fought like they were at war, but no change there. Sorry I couldn’t invite you.”

”No, I understand, most people aren’t fond of… my kind.”

His kind meaning pure-blood. They walked up the cold street, Christmas decorations hanging from shop windows.

”Christmas is over, can’t they take this down?” Tony complained, glaring at a particularly brightly coloured string of bunting.

”They don’t normally take anything down until after New Years. And what’s wrong? You seem to hate Christmas more than normal this time.”

”Let’s go to the Three Broomsticks,” Tony turned on his heel and walked the opposite way.

Rhodey chased after him, “fine, but we’re talking about this.”

”I know we are, and that’s why I’m going to need alcohol.”

”You’re not old enough.”

”I can look it though.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, making himself look exactly like Rhodey. Rhodey made a face at him, poking out his tongue. Tony mirrored this. Rhodey touched his face. Tony did the same. Rhodey placed his hand out, Tony ready to meet it.

”That’s creepy you know.”

”You should have seen me imitate Pepper.”

Rhodey laughed boisterously, pushing open the door to the Three Broomsticks. He let Tony in first, falling into their usual routine. Tony, unable to find a table, settled on a cushy sofa. Rhodey bought the drinks. Tony was tapping at the table, waiting for Rhodey to come back. He looked idly around the room, eyes landing on a poster hanging on the wall. It advertised some New Years Party, being held right here at the Three Broomsticks. He sighed. Not like he’d have anyone to go with. But it would be so romantic to confess (or be confessed to) at New Years, then kissed nervously, for the first time by his new partner. He sat in daydream, staring at the poster. A heavy clunk of bottles drew his attention round.

”Wanna go?” Rhodey asked, following his gaze to the poster.

”I have no one to go with.”

”I meant with me, dope.”

Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise, “You won’t have a date?”

”Ouch,” Rhodey laughed, “no need to rub it in. I don’t think I will. The girl I like, her attention is often on someone else.”

Tony cocked his head, “who? Do I know her?”

Rhodey smiled, not answering in favour of his butterbeer. Tony went back to looking at the poster.

”You were right about me, you know?”

Rhodey spluttered on his beer, “sorry, did you just say I was right?! about you?! Oh god it’s the end days!”

”Shut up,” Tony grinned, shoving Rhodey’s side.

”What was I right about?”

”I like them, both of them.”

”And you realised over Christmas,” Rhodey added, filling in the blanks. That certainly explained Tony’s renewed hatred for the holidays. He hated Christmas almost as much as he hated his own birthday, “do they know?”

”I hope not.”

”Why? What do you think would happen?”

”Nothing, and that’s why I don’t want to tell them.”

”What are you going to do?”

”I’m going to get them together,” determination was set in his voice.

Resolution of iron. Will of Steel. If they were together, it would make him the lowest of the low to try and get between them. He wouldn’t do that, not to them, not when they would be so happy together. After they were together, Tony would have closure, he’d know they would never want him. He would know there was no hope to be found with them. Maybe then he could get over this stupid little crush.

”Tony,” Rhodey started, and he sounded disappointed.

”I know, I know,” Tony interrupted hastily, “don’t get involved. But I’m never going drop this if I keep thinking I’m an option. I know I’m not, but it’s taking a while for me to believe it. Getting them together would cement this fact.”

Rhodey held his hands up in surrender, “okay, I just hope you won’t regret this.”

”I won’t,” he replied confidently, “this is an awesome idea. They’ll be happy and I won’t be miserable. Win-win.”

”I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

”When do I ever,” Tony laughed, “my entire life is improvised.”

Rhodey tapped the table, looking back up at the poster, “can I suggest something though?”

”Sure, Rhodey-bear.”

”Try dating someone else.”

”What? Why?”

”Might help,” he took a sip of his butter beer, “maybe having someone else there to distract you would help you move past these feelings.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at his pal, “you don’t mean you, do you?”

Rhodey choked on his beer, coughing and spluttering.

”I’ll take that as a no,” Tony chuckled, “No homo?”

”No homo,” Rhodey agreed.

They finished off their beers, Tony grabbing another round.

 

He had a plan. Sort of. 12% of a plan. Maybe 15% if they stuck to the script he’d written in his head for them. He took a deep breath, scrunching up his nose. He felt his hair grow to shoulder length, grow taller. He even seemed to gain more muscle - and wasn’t that just perfect. Tony was small, wiry, built more like a Seeker than a beater. Bucky, he was built like a Keeper, more so than Steve. Steve had the agility of a Keeper but the build of a Beater. His face had a trace of rough stubble, Bucky never seemed to like shaving all that much. Tony was jealous, he’d been trying to grow a goatee for months. A proper one, not one that he has to metamorph to get. He walked a few steps, getting used to the weight and power Bucky’s body provided him. He added a little saunter to his step, trying to exude all the confidence he’d seen in Bucky. Once he felt he had gotten it right, he went to find Steve. It didn’t take long. He was just leaving to go to the Quidditch Pitch. Tony knew Barnes would already be there, Steve’s biggest fan.

”Steve,” he waved, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

”Sounds important,” Steve was frowning, and that just wouldn’t do now would it.

Tony dropped his eyes, eyes falling on the corner of Steve’s mouth. He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling nervously.

”I guess it is,” Tony replied, tone heavy with intent, “there’s a party at the Three Broomsticks, a New Years party. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”

Steve’s face lit up, like the sun pushing past storm clouds. His smile was wide and bright, he seemed unable or unwilling to stifle it. Tony only wished it was for him.

”I’d love to.”

”Great,” Tony grinned right back, making sure it was slightly lopsided, Bucky’s always was, “I’ll see you later. Oh, I’ll meet you outside the Three Broomsticks at 11:45. I’m going to grab a good seat,” he ran ahead, waving at Steve as he left.

 

He headed into the stands, Bucky already in his seat. Tony stayed hidden. For this to work, Barnes couldn’t know he was here. Tony listened as the team went out onto the pitch. They played for a solid hour, Tony flicking through his comic book. The final whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. Tony waited for a few minutes before ducking into the alcove of the changing rooms. Urgh, the place smelt like stale sweat. He quickly donned Steve’s appearance, short blond hair, baby blues, and god Steve was so tall. He hit his head on the door frame, giving it a pissed off look. He let himself have a moment to get used to this form. Then he walked out. As he anticipated, Bucky was waiting for him.

”Hey Buck,” Tony greeted, making sure to give him the Captain’s best ‘aww shucks’ expression.

It worked, Bucky blushed and blushed hard.

”I wanted to ask you something,” Tony made sure to meet Bucky’s eyes. 

Steve was a Gryffindor, he’d be brave enough to do this eye to eye. He took a deep breath, pretending he was steeling himself up.

”There’s this thing happening at the Three Broomsticks tonight, at 11:45. I was wondering, well hoping, you’d like to go with me. We can meet there.”

”For New Years?” Bucky asked shyly.

Tony nodded nervously, dropping his gaze from Bucky’s before dragging it back up.

”Definitely!”

Bucky’s smile. He thought Steve’s was bright but this was like staring at the sun after an eclipse. The worry, the stress seemed to melt off Bucky. Tony was making the right choice. Sure it hurt him, but Christ, the looks Steve and Bucky had given him made it worth it.

”Shoot, I left my gloves on the bench. Will you wait here for me?”

”Where else would I be?”

And god he was still smiling. Tony wanted to stay, to drink it in. But he had work to do. He grinned back, ducking back into the changing rooms. He hid in the other teams changing room, letting the facade fade. His chest ached. It was worth it. He knew it would be. It had to be. He waited, listening to the team filter out. Steve was second to last, only Thor trailing behind.

”You got your gloves?”

Steve must have nodded because Tony heard the sound of them walk away. He followed behind at a distance, walking and talking with Thor about his ‘gorgeous Lady Jane’. Tony was grateful he had someone to walk with, made him stand out less. Part of his plan relied on two things. One, they could not realise he meddled. The second was that they didn’t talk to each other much. And the second part seemed to be going exactly as he hoped. They had a small distance between them, making nervous small talk. Both bright red to the ears. Tony smiled proudly. He’d done that. He was making this happen.

”Thank you for helping me meet my lady love, Anthony,” Thor said softly.

Huh, Tony expected more of a booming voice from the guy.

”Please don’t call me Anthony, only my dad calls me that,” Tony wrinkled his nose in disdain, “Tony, please.”

”Of course Tony, you are indeed my cupid.”

”Not just yours,” Tony mumbled with a smile.

 

It was going exactly as he hoped. They were too nervous to talk to each other, so instead they just smiled, blushing every time. Tony pretended he didn’t notice a thing, filling the silence with idle chatter. Eventually 10pm hit, everyone heading off to pursue separate things. Steve and Bucky were both getting ready, Tony headed into Hogsmeade. He had arranged a front row seat for this whole affair. Before he entered the pub-slash-bar, he quietly changed his appearance. Frizzy bright turquoise hair, brown eyes so dark they were nearly black, a wide nose. He reached into his bag. He kept a small make-up supply ready for when he turned into girls. He flicked the mascara across his eye lashes, dark purple lipstick across his mouth. He applied eyeliner, eye shadow, creating smokey eyes. He looked good, if he said so himself. He pushed open the door, smiling at Madam Rosmerta.

”Hiya, we spoke earlier. I’m here to help out.”

Rosmerta smiled gratefully at him - well her, Tony supposed. 

“I am so glad you actually showed. We are horribly understaffed for tonight, my barman is off sick.”

”I can tend bar,” Tony offered.

”Would you? Thanks darlin’, I have to get back to restocking, we reopen at 11.”

Tony nodded, wiping down the bar. He checked everything was in its place, familiarising himself with the bar. Needed to look and act professional. He hoped most people would just order Butterbeer. 11 o’clock came faster than he anticipated, the bar flooding with patrons and students alike. Music was thumping, the whole place smelt like Butterbeer, Pumpkin Juice, and - to Tony’s Chagrin - Fire Whiskey. Several customers looked to be on dates, some looked like they didn’t want to be alone at New Years, and one guy in particular - a tall black guy, wearing an eye patch and a black trench coat - looked like he’d _rather_ be alone. Tony wandered over to him.

”Hey, what can I get ya?” Tony asked, trying to be friendly.

”A quieter bar,” the guy groused.

”I can offer butterbeer,” Tony joked, feeling a little helpless, “we also have a quieter function room upstairs. It will be opening up in a half hour as overflow but it should be quieter for a little while.”

”Thanks,” he muttered, not sounding thankful at all, “what’s your name kid?”

”Tony.”

The stranger gave him a weird look.

”Short for Antonia,” he clarified with an embarrassed smile.

”Nick,” He offered, “you go to Hogwarts?”

”Yeah, part time job. Gotta buy those textbooks somehow.”

”What year?”

”Sixth. You?”

”Seventh.”

”Oh,” Tony said gleefully, “do you know James Rhodes?”

He nodded, eyeing Tony with suspicion, “yeah.”

”He’s a friend of mine. He might be coming tonight. If you want, I can send him your way.”

The man nodded. He still didn’t seem to appreciate Tony’s friendliness. He walked away.

”Have a good night,” Tony called after him.

Ignored. That guy was so rude. The bell above the door chimed. Tony turned, expecting the next wave of customers. Nope. Two very nervous friends of his.

”Hiya,” Tony greeted, “welcome to the party.”

They both thanked him. That felt weird. They found seats. Tony watched them argue over who would get the drinks. He sighed. Slipping some money in the till, he brought two Butter Beers over.

”On the house.”

”What? Why?” Bucky questioned.

Tony laughed, melodic and light, “you both reminded me of my first date with _my_ boyfriend,” he lied easily, both Steve and Bucky blushing, “a waiter did the same thing for me, so I’m passing on the good fortune. I hope you have a great night.”

Tony sauntered back to the bar, serving a waiting customer. He worked hard through the night. But he did keep an eye on them both. The countdown was three minutes from starting. One patron had his head on the bar, looking completely dejected.

”Hey honey, what’s wrong?” Tony asked, playing the part of a friendly bar maiden.

”My girlfriend just dumped me,” the guy lamented, “Now I’m alone on New Years, not even anyone to kiss.”

”I’ll kiss you,” Tony offered, “just don’t tell my boss.”

”You’d do that?”

”Sure,” Tony shrugged, “you’re cute.”

And he was. Not Tony’s type, but not bad looking. He had a beard, shaved close to his face, and short dark hair. His eyes were capturing, a burnt umber still smouldering. Not a bad look. Tony glanced over at Steve and Bucky, both standing as the countdown began.

”10- 9- 8- 7-”

The stranger was leaning forward over the counter, smiling happily. Bucky had his arms around Steve’s neck, both wearing Elysian smiles on their faces. He’d never have them smiling like that at him. Tony bit his lip, looking up through his lashes at the stranger.

”4- 3- 2- 1. HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Steve and Bucky were kissing. At last. The stranger leaned forwards, catching Tony’s in a chaste kiss. It was sweet. Nothing special but sweet.

”I was wondering,” the stranger grinned at Tony with new confidence, “wanna do something later?”

Tony’s eyes darted to Steve and Bucky. They were making out, and fuck did it hurt to see. He was happy for them. He was. But he wasn’t happy for himself. Rhodey’s words echoed in his ears. _Try dating someone else._

”Sure, I’d love to,” Tony tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “I finish my shift at one.”

”I’ll see you then.”

 

Bucky and Steve walked out of the bar, hand in hand. They had made it halfway back to Hogwarts before Steve stopped.

”Buck, I need to be honest with you about something.”

Bucky nodded, taking this seriously.

”I know you asked me out-”

Bucky shook his head, “no, you asked me out,” he said, grin on his face, like he thought Steve was joking.

”No, you ask me out on the front steps.”

”You asked me out at the Quidditch pitch.”

Both looked puzzled, trying to figure out if the other was lying. Then, a light bulb moment.

”Tony,” Steve whispered with a smile, “he knew how I felt about you.”

”How the hell would Tony ask me out?”

”He’s a metamorphagi, he can look like anyone,” Steve said into his hands.

”I thought I dreamed that,” Bucky muttered.

Steve was oblivious to Bucky saying anything, “I don’t know if I want to kill him or hug him.”

”He did us a favour, go for the hug,” Bucky said neutrally, shifting from foot to foot, “but Steve-”

”Right, I wanted to say something. So Buck, I love you, I’ve loved you for so long that I’ve lost count of the years. But…” He hesitated. This could ruin everything. This could make everything so much better. Was it worth the gamble? Be brave. “But, I think I love Tony too.”

Bucky pulled Steve down and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, kissing him hard. He smiled into the kiss, grinning brightly.

”Oh thank god!”

Steve pulled away, brow furrowing, “you’re okay with that?”

”Fuck yeah, I’m so glad you said it, I never would have.”

”Wait, you- do you like him too?”

Bucky nodded with a reluctant smile, “I wasn’t going to say anything. But yeah.”

”Fuck I love you.”

They kissed hard, Steve pressing Bucky up against a stone wall. Neither of them paying any mind to a dark haired boy and a turquoise haired girl passing.

 

Tony smiled when he saw them. Smiled past the lump in his throat and the knot in his stomach. This was it. This was his closure. The stranger - Lance Hunter, apparently - was holding his hand and pulling insistently, desperate to get back to Hogwarts. Lance was kissing frantically at Tony’s neck, getting very handsy.

”Lance, I have a confession.”

Lance made an uh-huh noise, but made no attempt to stop is ministrations.

”Lance, I’m a metamorphagi.”

”Huh?”

”It means I can shapeshift between any human form.”

”You’re a girl though right.”

”I can be either.”

”Be a girl, you are so fucking attractive as a girl.”

”I can be better,” Tony heard himself say.

He wanted to be better, worthy of the interest Lance was showing. Worthy of the interest anyone showed him.

”Show me,” Lance demanded, hands still roaming places Tony had never been touched.

Tony could only picture the beauty he’d seen muggles draw, a world of magic beyond his own. Long red hair flowed down his back, full red lips graced his face, freckles dotting across his nose. Perfection in Print, Limited by Life. but still Lance gasped, caressing Tony’s face in a way he longed to be touched. But it didn’t fulfill his longing.

”Show me more.”

He- No she, Tony would be a she for Lance. She changed. Almost back to the barmaid. But with subtle, nearly unnoticeable differences. A gorgeous mixed race girl, brown wavy hair dip-dyed green. Bright green eyes, and freckles across her nose. A girl named Laura Wilson, a goddess punished for pomegranates.

”Perfect, stay like this forever.”

Tony nodded.

”What’s your name sweetheart?”

Tony chose the name of the comic image he personified, “Laura.”

”Well Laura, you are fucking gorgeous.”

Tony blushed, feeling the warmth spring to her cheeks. He touched all over her body, hands running under her shirt. He cupped her breasts, kissing her roughly. She was pinned beneath him, pinned inside the broom closet they had sneaked into. This was fine. She didn't hate it. She just didn’t feel sparks as he felt her up. She kind of just wanted him to get off so she could go to sleep. It had been a long and somewhat ~~disappointing,~~  no, somewhat exhausting day. She knelt down and undid his fly. Tony rolled her eyes. So romantic. Oral sex in a broom closet. Tony quickly changed tactic. A hand job felt less obscene, if only slightly. Lance was only a little better than a _One pump chump _,__  he staggered backward, sinking to the floor, euphoric expression on his face.

”We should date,” he said.

”Sure,” Tony answered, lackadaisical.

”Let’s go out next Friday.”

”Sure.”

Tony could not muster up the enthusiasm. She really didn’t care about Lance. She didn’t want to go out with him. Not really. But Rhodey told her to date so here she was, trying.

”Heh, Bobbi is going to be so jealous.”

That caught Tony’s attention, “Who’s Bobbi?”

”The ex that dumped me tonight.”

”Are you wanting to date me to make her jealous?”

He was silent, apprehensive of her reaction.

”That’s perfect.”

”It is?”

”Yeah, I just want to use you to get over someone else.”

Lance grinned, “we make a pair.”

”Soon to be Hogwarts power couple,” Tony grinned right back, “but I’m going to bed. Laters. I’ll meet you on the front steps on Friday.”

 

Steve and Bucky walked hand in hand through the entrance hall. A green haired girl was walking slowly in front of them, shaking her hand like she was trying to get something off it. Eventually she reached into her pocket, wiping away whatever it was with a piece of parchment and a look of disgust. She scrunched up the paper before vanishing it with a flick of her wand and a muttered incantation. They both waited at the foot of the stairs, allowing her to walk up without feeling followed.

”So,” Steve smiled at Bucky, squeezing his hand.

”So,” Bucky agreed, “when do we ask him out?”

”Tomorrow.”

”Tomorrow. Fingers crossed he’ll say yes.”

”Of course he will, have you seen the way he _looks_ at you?”

”Have you seen the way he looks at _you_?”

”This is awesome,” Bucky leaned up and kissed Steve, “I can do that whenever I want, and I can do that to Tony soon.”

”From Tomorrow,” Steve was so excited.

From tomorrow, everything would be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnetised - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpsGQSaP27g  
> Instead - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rRNzCamffc
> 
> Also sorry guys, I'm moving from the UK to Germany in a week so updates may be a little sparse, while I pack and move and stuff. (Wish me luck, I'm staying out there for a year and I really wish I was better at the language :S )
> 
> I'll try and update at least once more before I leave :) after that I'll try and do the every couple of days thing once I've got internet out there


	12. Loose Lips Sink Ships

#  ****Chapter Twelve - Loose Lips Sink Ships** **

Tomorrow came and went. And the day after. And the day after. Classes would be starting soon, and they still hadn’t seen Tony. Sleet was falling down over the school, Students huddling under robes and running between lessons to keep the chill off. Most of the gang was gathered in an empty classroom, except Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey. Steve was leaning out of an open window, breathing in the smell of the snow that refused to set. Bucky was sat next to him, resting his head on his shoulder.

”You haven’t seen him have you?”

Clint shook his head, “we got back yesterday. Haven’t had time?”

”Have you checked the library?” Natasha asked, fiddling with a strand of hair, she turned, looking over her shoulder, “do you think I need a haircut?”

Clint shook his head, kissing the top of her head, “nah, you look great.”

”Aren’t you worried about him?”

Clint and Natasha exchanged a look, “not really.”

“Before he became friends with you two, he used to do this all the time.”

”Yeah, like this isn’t even the longest he’s disappeared for. He goes off to study during the holidays and forgets what day it is. At least that’s what Pepper says.”

”Where does he go?” Steve asked insistently.

”Fuck me if I know,” Clint shrugged, “I can never get a read on him.”

Natasha shrugged in answer, still messing with her hair. Clint began to massage her shoulders. Steve and Bucky settled uneasily, feeling on the edge of their seats. Steve took Bucky’s hand, squeezing slightly. Clint kissed Natasha’s cheek, and she grinned up at him. A million things seemed to be shared between them. And yet, words never seemed to be among them.

”We get you’re worried,” Natasha attempted to soothe, “but he’ll show up. This isn’t like last time. It’s not like he’s gotten bad news or anything. He’s probably in the first floor girl’s bathroom.”

”Huh? Why would he be there?”

”You didn’t know?” Bucky shook his head at Clint, Steve remained silent and pensive, “he’s friends with Myrtle, they go waaay back. Before he was friends with Pepper and Rhodey.”

”Really? They’re that close? We should meet her,” Steve said thoughtfully, “since they’re so close.”

Clint grinned. Both of them had the look that Phil had when he went to meet Clint’s parents. Steve smoothed his hair down, Bucky tried desperately to wipe an ink mark of his hand.

”You’re hardly asking for Tony’s hand in marriage,” Natasha quipped, grinning at them both, “you’re just seeing one of his best friends. Maybe even his actual best friend. And I mean, her opinion will totally affect how Tony sees you and interacts with you. He probably trusts her opinion over yours. So if you fuck this up, I don’t see any way of recovering. But it’s no big deal,” she couldn’t hide her smile.

The pair of them were so transparent. They shuffled nervously, Steve fixing Bucky’s tie, which had ended up halfway down his chest. Bucky smoothed out the wrinkles in Steve’s robes across his shoulders. Clint decided to join in Natasha’s little game. This was fun.

”I mean, if she likes you, you might even end up as his best friends. But Myrtle, _woo_ ,” Clint exhaled apprehensively, “you got your work cut out for you. I mean, only if you want to leave a good impression. I’m sure it would mean a lot to Tony, if all his _friends_ got on,” Clint stressed the word friend.

He wanted to see if they’d cave, tell him what he and Natasha already knew. Actually it wasn’t a case of if they’d cave. It was when and who first. And Steve crumbled like a sand castle being hit by a wave.

”Alright,” he stressed, “alright, we like Tony, both of us, we want to date him, is that what you want to hear?”

Natasha and Clint nodded, “pretty much, yeah. We already knew though.”

” _How?!”_  Bucky sounded exasperated, hands placed in the universally recognised ‘what the fuck!’ position.

”You see, it’s all about _reading_ people,” Clint teased, “and Christ, are you both so easy to read. You might as well have all your thoughts tattooed on your forehead.”

”Seriously boys,” Natasha quirked an eyebrow, “you are about as subtle as a brick to the face. You might want to work on that. I’m honestly surprised Tony hasn’t noticed.”

She glanced at Clint to confirm her suspicion. He shook his head slightly. Tony really _hadn’t_ noticed. At least he if he had he wasn’t obvious about it. Natasha sighed. God, her friends were all idiots.

”So you want to date Tony,” Clint stated, “that’s good. You know what you want. Do you know what you don’t know?”

”Clint,” Natasha tugged at him sleeve, “by all definitions it is impossible for them to know what they don’t know.”

”Right, but what you don’t know is how Tony feels.”

”You really need to find that out,” Natasha added, not entirely helpful.

Steve and Bucky rolled their eyes in unison. No shit. Of course they needed to find out how Tony felt. And that very fact was eating at their nerves. They hadn’t seen Tony in days and this didn’t just feel like disappearance, this felt like avoidance. And everyone would soon know that no one did avoidance like Tony Stark.

 

“Hey Myrtle,” Tony greeted her, bounce in his step, joy in his voice.

”Someone’s happy,” Myrtle commented, floating over to him, “what’s up?”

Tony grinned, hands tucked behind his back as he swayed to and fro in his glee. He took a large step and pirouetted across the room. He was humming, turning circles around the room.

”Don’t keep me waiting,” she demanded, stepping in front of him.

He stopped in his tracks; it’s rude to walk through ghosts.

”I got them together,” his eyes lit up with the words, unable to stop himself grinning.

”And you’re happy about it?” Myrtle questioned, warily.

She knew him. And she knew that this was a front. She saw it in the lines in his face, the dark circles under his eyes, and most importantly she saw it in the little streaks of grey in his brown eyes. He had tells, but you had to look for them. But he smiled so brightly, so convincingly, moved so freely, spoke so happily.

”Of course I am.”

”Tony,” Myrtle’s tone was the gentlest he’d ever heard it, “it’s okay.”

”I know,” he answered, still with that smile, “they’ll be happy together.”

”So long as you’re happy too.”

”I am… or I will be. I have a plan.”

”Oh really?”

”Yeah, so here’s what I’m going to do, since they’re together now, there is absolutely no hope for me, right?”

She didn’t want to agreed but it seemed the only way to get him to continue. She made a vague noise which Tony took for tacit agreement.

”And so, I’m going to date someone else.”

”Who? Who do you plan on dating?”

”Oh, I’m already dating them. His name is Lance, Lance Hunter.”

”Hmmm.”

”What?”

”Nothing, what’s he like?”

”Oh, you know…” Tony shrugged, “he’s alright. Nice… looking.”

”Sounds dreamy,” she deadpanned.

”He’s… nice.”

”Wow, you’ve fallen head over heels,” she replied in that same tone.

”I _am_ happy,” Tony stressed.

”I’m not convinced.”

Tony smiled a despondent smile, “It’s not you I’m trying to convince.”

He perched on a sink, Myrtle landing herself next to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder; he didn’t shudder at her touch, he never did. She lay her head on his shoulder. This was all the support she could offer. Even if it wasn’t much, she hoped it helped. He took a deep breath, leaning back into the cold mirror behind him.

”How did you meet?” she asked curiously.

Tony forced the smile back. People were meant to be happy when they told this story.

”We met at New Years. I was working at The Three Broomsticks to keep an eye on Steve and Bucky, and we kissed at midnight. It was… fine.”

”And the other two?”

”They were making out on the way home, so it seems like I was successful.”

”That’s not what I meant. Have you seen them since?”

Tony shook his head, playing with his hands in his lap, “No, I don’t want to see them.”

”But they’re your friends aren’t they?”

”They aren’t level sevens.”

Myrtle scoffed, “yes they are-"

"-Are not!"

She flicked her hand dismissively, "Whatever. You should see them though, talk to them.”

”And say what? ‘I don’t want to be around you because even though I helped you get together, seeing you with each other causes me physical pain’. I can’t do that.”

”You could… I don’t know, talk to them normally.”

”I don’t know how. How to I pretend that I don’t love them? How do I pretend that-” And it overcame him so fast, the lump in his throat, his vision blurring until he couldn’t see, “how do I pretend that everything is fine when to me - and only me - it isn’t?”

He choked back a soft sob, turning to see himself in the mirror. His eyes were brimming, already irritatingly bloodshot. He blinked away the tears and took a breath. In and out. In and out. He couldn’t show this. He needed to control it.

”But Lance,” his voice was so rough. He coughed to clear it, “Lance likes me, sort of.”

”What do you mean sort of?”

Tony blinked, scrunched up his nose. He felt his hair reach his shoulders, his body change, his voice raise in pitch.

”He likes Laura,” Tony explained, spreading his arms wide, “And this way I get to be someone new. I get the chance to move on.”

Myrtle smiled sadly, “you look very pretty.”

Tony looked down, blushing, “thank you,” he mumbled.

Creaking. Tony looked around to find the noise. The bathroom door opened slowly, two scared faces poking around. Tony frowned. What were Steve and Bucky doing here?

”Sorry, we aren’t creeping.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at the pair.

”We really weren’t, we wanted to speak to Myrtle,” Bucky added desperately.

Tony was giving them a weird look, he knew he was. Doesn’t mean he could stop himself. Steve was looking him over with curiosity.

”What are you doing here?”

”It’s the girls bathroom,” Tony grinned.

”Don’t you have work?”

”What?” Tony’s brow furrowed in his confusion, biting his lip, “No, I have class.”

”I thought you worked in The Three Broomsticks. You served us?”

Tony laughed. That’s what Steve had meant.

”No, no, I only work there part-time. I go to school here.”

”Oh,” Steve said, eyebrows shooting up, “you seemed older though.”

Tony laughed lightly, Steve was giving him a way out, a way to disconnect himself from them both, “well I mean I am a seventh year, and you’re what? Fifth years?”

”Sixth,” Steve corrected.

Tony nodded to acknowledge his mistake, as purposeful as it had been. He looked at his watch, “I should go, I have to get to class. Don’t stay too long, you never know who comes in here.”

Tony left with a small wave at Myrtle and a sweep of his cloak. She gave him a little wave, hand staying near her hip. Then she turned to the pair of boys, raising her eyebrow into a playful arch.

”You wanted to talk to me?”

 

As soon as Tony was out of earshot, sight, hell he even accounted for smell, he turned back to himself. He really wasn’t lying though, he had class. Well three classes. Ancient Runes, Herbology, and Divination. He’d do Ancient Runes first. He liked doing his lessons alphabetically. That was just logical, helped him keep track of things. He sprinted up to the sixth floor, bumping past students. A tug, something pulling at his sleeve. He turned to see who had latched on.

”Natasha, hey what’s up?”

She blinked at him, seemingly thrown for a moment, “did they find you?”

”Who?”

She opened her mouth, before deciding against it, snapping it closed churlishly.

”Okay, what have I done to piss you off?” Tony sighed, tugging his robes from her grip.

”Nothing,” she answered, sounding far less than believable, “I just thought… but I guess not.”

”What are you guessing?”

”Nothing. Have you seen Steve and Bucky?”

”Not since New Years.”

Natasha smiled sweetly, a cat with the cream and the canary, “they said New Years Eve.”

”Yeah well, they didn’t see me.”

”How’d that happen?”

”Not a clue,” he had no idea what Natasha wanted, and he didn’t really care, “I have to get to class, can this wait until after? Until break?”

”Sure,” she smirked, and it was pissing the hell out of Tony, “I’ll meet you outside your classroom, what’s your last stop after second period?”

Tony thought for a minute… What was it? He had Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and… History of Magic.

”Binns, I can meet in the library, I have to start my essays.”

”Sure, I’ll see you then.”

And then she sauntered off, leaving Tony feeling a tiny bit irked and rather bemused. She always seemed to come from no where. And she always talked so cryptically. Tony could count on one hand the times she’d asked him something straight out. He shrugged it off. After all, he had a busy day starting.

 

“What did you want to talk about?”

”Well, we just wanted to know more about you. You’re Tony’s best friend-”

”One of his best friends,” Myrtle corrected, eyes peering over her glasses, “I believe he cares more for other people.”

”Oh,” Steve said, no force to the word.

It was odd. Being sucker-punched with new information. Who would outrank Myrtle, his closest friend? She was smirking at them quietly, clearly enjoying their internalised confusion. She continued to speak through their befuddlement.

”I do believe he’s friends with a couple of idiots, whom he’s rather fond of.”

Both of them stared at her as she cackled.

”Oh the looks on your faces.”

”You were joking? So he doesn’t care for us?”

” _I_ don’t care for you. You are the same as that red haired snake, snooping around me and around here for information.”

”We’re sorry,” Bucky offered up apology instantly, “we didn’t come to snoop. Honestly. We came here because you’re one of Tony’s best friends and we wanted to get to know you. You mean a lot to him.”

Myrtle’s cheeks turned more opaque, a ghost of a blush across her nose. But it was gone a moment later, translucent fury flying up to him, nearly nose to nose.

”Flattery won’t get you anywhere, little badger.”

”It’s not flattery,” Steve argued stubbornly, “it’s truth.”

She blinked at him like she’d only just recognised his existence.

”I remember you. You helped him when they tried to drown him-” Bucky gasped softly at her words, hands jumping to cover his mouth, “-Why are you both here?”

”To get to know you,” Steve insisted, “you’re important to Tony and Tony is important to us.”

”And what if you aren’t important to Tony? And what if you are?”

Steve wanted to slam his head into a wall. This wasn’t going anywhere. Bucky gripped his hand, squeezing lightly. They were together in this. They would be together until the end of the line. Steve gave a gentle squeeze back, stroking his thumb across Bucky’s wrist, right over his pulse. Myrtle seemed to be watching them with interest, head tilted, readjusting her glasses on her nose.

”He actually did it,” she sounded surprised.

”He did what?”

”Nothing,” she smiled coyly at them, drifting away slightly, “so… you want to get to know me? How about we each get three questions?”

Steve and Bucky nodded frantically, happy that she was relenting. They sat down on the floor, leaning back against the tiled walls. Myrtle floated down and sat cross-legged opposite.

”You may ask first,” she told them magnanimously.

”Okay, what house were you in?” Bucky asked.

He couldn’t tell from her robes, no colour and the emblem was too distorted by being able to see through it.

”I was a Ravenclaw. My turn. Are you both dating each other?”

”Yes,” they answered in unison, “we got together on New Years Eve,” Steve added, “how did you and Tony become friends?”

”After a Hufflepuff boy shouted that he was a pure-blood during during the sorting, he became the target of bullies. Tony hid in here, and I scared them away. He stayed to chat.”

”And the Hufflepuff?” Bucky asked curiously.

”Are you sure you want to use your last question on that?”

”It’s still part of the same question,” Steve argued.

She sighed, but unable to disturb the air around her it sounded off, “very well. Tony had no idea how the boy found out about his blood status. But the Hufflepuff did apologise, even tried to fight off the bullies when he could. He chose to try and make up for his mistake. They are friends now, though _ _I__ believe the only reason the Hufflepuff stays is because of the guilt he feels.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. They were both thinking the same thing. Clint. They needed to speak to Clint.

”Okay, so my question is what is Tony’s favourite subject?”

Steve and Bucky paused. That wasn’t what they expected. They expected something more personal.

”Do you not know? I can provide a multiple choice.”

Bucky scoffed, “please, that one’s easy. It’s muggle studies.”

She smirked, “indeed.”

”So our turn again right? How and when did you die?” Steve asked bluntly.

Sue him, he was curious. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know how a young girl came to haunt a bathroom. But Myrtle seemed ecstatic to talk about her untimely demise.

”It happened right here,” she said with surprising glee, “it was horrible. I was crying - a girl had been bullying me, for wearing glasses - and someone came in, speaking a different language. I wanted to tell them to _GO AWAY_  and I died.”

”But how?”

She shook her head in disappointment, “you clearly aren’t up to date on your history. There is a chamber below the castle. A creature called a Basilisk lived in it-” Bucky gasped loudly, body tensing against Steve’s, “-and it looked at me and I looked at it.”

”What happened after that?”

”I died, Steven.”

”What, just by looking at it?”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, they are considered one of the most dangerous things alive. Eyes that can kill, powerful bodies, venom can kill in seconds. Is it still down there?”

”Oh no, Harry Potter killed it years ago. You really do not pay attention in class,” she chastised.

”It’s your question now,” Steve suggested, “unless you don’t want to.”

”Are you chicken?” she taunted, “don’t think you can answer my question,” she grinned, baring her teeth at them both, “My question is this: You once punched Tony in the face, but he forgave you in three days. Why do you think he forgave you?”

Steve looked at his hands, embarrassed and repentant for his past deeds, “He said that if he was mad at everyone who took a shot at him, he’d be annoyed at the world.”

”But that’s not true,” Bucky cut in, “that’s not the reason, is it?”

”You’re out of questions,” Myrtle smiled, “and very late for class. Thanks for playing Gentleman, but you don’t win the big prize.”

She swept into a deep bow, grinning widely at them. Bucky and Steve shared a look. Both were pretty certain they'd been played but had no idea how. Bucky glanced at his watch. He grabbed Steve and pulled him out the door, yelling a hasty ‘thanks’ to Myrtle. She watched as the disappeared around the corner. With a sigh she floated over to the taps, turning them on with a graceful movement of her hand. She didn’t know them. But she knew one thing. They would hurt Tony. She was certain of that.

 

“Nat, what’s up?” Tony didn’t look up from his essays, scribbling hastily across a misspelled word.

”Have Steve and Bucky found you yet?”

Tony shook his head, “Know why they want to find me so bad?”

”I have an idea.”

”But you aren’t going to share that information with me,” Tony said uncaring, “so you are just here to bother me then?”

”You’re acting cold. Why?”

Tony placed down his quill, turning around to face Natasha. And he looked exhausted already. Deep, dark bags were under his eyes and she could see a touch of grey to his usually healthy looking skin. He looked worn out. He looked sad. A fight was building in him, she could sense it. He seemed to be pulled tighter than an elastic band, a sharp pull away from snapping.

”Because I’m busy.”

”Lessons have barely started, you don’t have that much work.”

”I have to get this done,” Tony turned back to his essay, “I’m meant to have a date tonight.”

Natasha was thrown off-kilter. A date. But she thought Tony… Maybe he doesn’t. Clint could never get a good read on him, and he was far better at this than she was. She recovered fast, leaning against the desk by his left shoulder.

”Who with?”

”You don’t know him.”

”I might?”

”He’s a Hufflepuff, our year. And don’t worry, it’s not Clint,” Tony answered, still partially ignoring her in favour of his essays.

”Is it… is it Bucky?” She asked, feeling bewildered.

Tony never really mixed with any other houses, surely it had to be Bucky, that was the only Hufflepuff he knew, other than Clint. But the way he spluttered, scoffing and hunching over his papers… maybe it wasn’t Bucky.

”God no, Nat, he wouldn’t want to date me, he’s dating Steve. Shit, they have mentioned that right? I’m not letting the Kneazle out of the box, am I?”

”They have mentioned… So who are you dating?”

”Hunter.”

”Lance? Lance Hunter?”

”Yuh-huh,” Tony commented idly, casting one of his essays to the side, pulling a worksheet closer.

”You should bring him round at lunch, I’m sure we’d all love to meet him, certainly meet him properly.”

”I can’t do that,” Tony squeaked.

Natasha quirked her eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest.

”Look, I’m different around him.”

”If you aren’t yourself around him, you should break up.”

”I’m not _not_ myself, I’m just… Look, you just wouldn’t understand.”

He shoved his essays into his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. He stalked off, leaving Natasha more than a little confused. She was certain that he liked Steve or Bucky… She actually thought he liked both. But things change.

 

“Did you find him?” Clint asked, sprawling across a stone bench in the courtyard.

His cloak was covered in snow from the knees down, having finished his trek from the greenhouses.

”No,” Steve said sullenly, “but we did get to speak to Myrtle.”

”She seems to think we barely know Tony,” Bucky huffed, pulling Steve’s arm around him as the blond gave him a kiss, “your nose is cold,” Bucky pulled of his scarf and wrapped it around Steve’s face, planting a kiss on his lips before he covered them in wool.

”Well you should hurry up, Valentines isn’t long off and people might start getting desperate. I know for a fact that Kamala is trying to convince Doreen to ask him out.”

Steve whined under the scarf, Bucky squeezing his hand. They needed to find him. They know that. They know that and they don’t appreciate the added pressure. Beauty, Grace, and Looking Ready to Punch someone in the face was stalking up to them, red hair like fire caught in a storm. Her feet struck the cobblestone, sound echoing angrily around the courtyard. She glared at Steve and Bucky.

”What did you do?” She accused, jabbing them both in the chest, “I swear to god, if you don’t tell me, I will-”

”Nat, sweetie, darling, cuddle-bear, calm down,” Clint was up and holding her back by her shoulders, slinking one hand down to snake around her waist.

”No. Want to know why?” her tone was colder than the air around them, “he’s seeing someone.”

Clint stared at her, before choking out a strangled “what?”

”Yeah, he’s seeing someone,” she was seething, “so what did you do? Before Christmas I swear he was-”

Clint covered her mouth with his hand, kissing her cheek softly. They didn’t need to exchange words, not out loud. She looked at him and nodded. Tony had been head over heels for them both before Christmas. Clearly he had a change of mind. Or a change of heart. But it wasn’t their place to mention it. Bucky sunk to the ground, landing heavily on his knees. Steve crouched next to him, rubbing up and down his back.

”But… but he got us together,” Bucky’s voice was broken, nearly in tears, before he coughed, clearing it away in an instant, “I know he likes Steve. I have no doubt about that.”

”He likes you Buck,” Steve tried to comfort.

Natasha slapped her hand to her forehead, “shit! I’m an idiot. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m going to talk to him,” she turned, robes flying out behind her, “and shut up Clint,” she argued.

He grinned after her, hands held up in a placating gesture, “I didn’t say a word.”

”Stop thinking it then,” she snarled.

 

She couldn’t find him. Not during break, not during Lunch. He wasn’t in her lessons, though she couldn’t help but eye the new girl with suspicion. Turquoise hair, instantly latched onto Pepper, certainly talked a lot like Tony. But she never got the chance to speak to her, the girl whisking herself off to her next lesson. She’d have to speak with the new girl another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would anyone be interested in reading a vampire!Tony fic?
> 
> Thinking of writing one, and wondered if people would want to read :)


	13. Mocha Coffee with Apple Syrup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry for the delay in posting, it's been a very busy week or so :S
> 
> Unfortunately, my schedule is a little up in the air so I haven't had much time to write lately. I'll try to have another posted by next Saturday but sorry, no guarantees :'(

#  ****Chapter Thirteen -Mocha Coffee with Apple Syrup** **

Tony had been ducking Natasha. He couldn’t stop himself. He was certain she knew how he felt. Certain. She had a way of knowing. So he stayed as Laura most of the day, the rest of the week, swapping hair from green dip-dyed to bright turquoise. Lance saw him on the Friday evening, walking up and kissing ~~him~~. Her, She wanted to be a her for Lance, always. Lance wouldn’t be with her otherwise. Lance kissed her on the cheek, taking her hand. They walked through the snow filled courtyard, Lance wrapping his cloak around her when she started to shiver. It was sweet. Nice. They walked down to the lake, Tony staring up at the darkening sky. It was barely even 6pm and it already felt like past midnight. They kissed at the lake’s edge, Tony’s pulse thrumming in her ears as the water lapped at her feet. She hated being this close to the lake, to water. But Lance was kissing her and it was meant to be romantic. Tony took his hand, slotting her fingers between his. She needed an anchor to ignore the feeling of cold she could feel creeping up her spine.

”Laura,” Lance moaned.

Tony coughed awkwardly, “Actually, my name is Antonia, Tony for short.”

Lance grinned at her, “whatever, you’re gorgeous. Laura, Tony, doesn’t matter to me.”

That was… fine. She smiled and kissed Lance, arms coming to hug him around the neck. This was nice. A walk around the lake, moon shining over the surface. It cast them both into silver light. A cool wind blew across the lake, the water rippling under its force. Tony’s hair lifted off her shoulders, the breeze raising it into the air, a cold caress. She could hear the rustle of leaves from the forest. He kissed her hard, hand sweeping up her back. Still no sparks. Tony almost sighed, but hey, she wanted this. She wanted to get over them. And the fact that they still sprung to mind as he pushed her to the ground was exactly why she was doing this. He settled on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. He kissed her, hand venturing under her bra. He broke away from the kiss, moving along her neck. Tony placed a hand on his cheek, stopping him.

”Can we… can we wait? I- just- I don’t want to yet, not out here. Not tonight.”

Lance nodded understandingly, “Of course, do you want to go back inside?”

Tony nodded, pulling Lance’s cloak closer around her. She walked a small distance from him, the foot between them gave her room to breathe. He moved fast, too quickly. She didn’t want her first to… to be on the lawns of Hogwarts. Tony stepped away as soon as they entered the castle. She handed back the cloak and thanked him for the lovely evening. He walked away, heading down for the Hufflepuff common room. Tony stood, watching him disappear before turning to leave the castle.

 

She reached the forest, running quickly through until she found Harrison. The blue car seemed to growl at her.

”Hey buddy,” she started softly, “it’s me, Harrison.”

The car approached slowly, a twitchy animal ready to run. Tony offered her hand, allowing the car to approach and bump into her hand.  
It hummed happily as Tony petted it.

”I know I look a little different, but it’s still me… I think.”

The car seemed to purr under Tony’s hand. He turned into himself again, the car honking happily at the sight. The driver’s door was thrown open, the car wiggling in excitement. Tony pulled himself in, stroking a hand across the white leather. The car hummed again, the door shutting after Tony. The car revved and off it went, speeding through the forest. Tony stared absently out the window. He watched the trees become a blur and deer scamper away from the noise, and foxes hide in the underbrush. The car drove for a long time, the noise of the engine soothing him. He crawled into the back seat, stretching his legs along the bench. The inside seemed far bigger that it should be, Tony noted. Probably charmed. He curled up and soon was fast asleep.

 

The car honked loudly, Tony slamming his head onto the ceiling.

”Ouch,” he groaned, sinking back to the seat, “Harrison, there has got to be a nicer way to wake someone up.”

The car honked again. Tony flinched at the noise, falling off the seat and into the foot well. Tony rubbed his head, groaning as he lay on the floor. The car shivered under him, his whole body vibrating. He sat up, feeling a little pissed at the rude awakening. The car let out a bang. Tony shot up and looked through the windows. They were surrounded by darkness, the forest so dense that not even the headlights could travel no more than a few feet. Tony could hear the sound of stomping. Not just stopping, it sounded like hooves.

”Stay quiet,” Tony whispered, patting the car.

He climbed out the window and stood on the roof.

” _Lumos Maxima _,”__ he yelled, flicking his wand above him.

An orb of light hovered above his head, making the surrounding glow grey. He watched closely, looking for any sign of movement. He could still hear hooves only now they seemed to be circling him, just beyond the light’s touch.

”Who’s out there?” he called out, trying in vain to see.

”What’s a human foal doing so deep in our forest?” The voices answered.

”I didn’t know this forest belonged to anyone,” Tony replied, turning in circles as he tried to find anyone.

”Ignorance. Human ignorance,” an angry voice to his left spat out.

”How dare this creature walk upon our lands!” someone shouted to his right.

”I’m sorry,” Tony stuttered, “I came to see Harrison.”

”Harrison,” the voices echoed, repeating themselves farther back into the darkness until the word was nothing but a whisper carried by the wind.

Someone stepped forward into his light. The body of a horse, a dark grey dun, upper body of a man, striking silver hair pulled into a pony tail down his back.

”Centaurs,” Tony breathed.

”Who is Harrison? There is no Harrison among us,” the centaur stepped forward, closer to him.

”The car,” Tony replied quickly, “I named the car Harrison.”

Murmurs broke out through the darkness.

”What is your name, human foal?”

”Tony,” he answered, quicker than before, “I meant no harm.”

The centaur circled him, sticking to the edge of the light. Tony could hear jeers and taunts among the crowd in the dark.

”What does the beast have to do with you?”

”The beast?”

”I believe you called it a car.”

”Oh, right. Well, there was this guy and he had pissed me off so I ran into your forest - I didn’t know it was yours at the time - and found Harrison. I fixed him up.”

”So you are responsible for the beast?”

”I don’t know. I like Harrison, and I think Harrison likes me.”

”So you tamed the beast.”

Tony shrugged. The car seemed jittery beneath his feet. Tony lowered his wand and sat down on the roof of the car. His hand instantly moved to pet it, not noticing the centaur watching him.

”Harrison,” the centaur said the name with a slight sneer, “has often been moving recklessly through the forest, having no mind for what it was destroying. However in recent months it has seemed calmer. It moves with more… I suppose one may call it grace. Would this be your doing?”

”I mean, I guess. I’ve been seeing him at least once a week since late September.”

The centaur nodded, the movement feeling sage and wise, as though granting Tony silent approval.

”Very well. You may feel free to continue visiting Harrison. However if you come to our home for any other reason, or bring another of your kind, we will follow the laws of our kind.”

”I understand. I will never bring another of my kind into your forest, sir.”

Tony lowered himself onto his knees, bowing to the Centaur. The centaur seemed… pleased with Tony’s response. He certainly did not seem as antagonised as the others. Tony supposed this was their leader, because no one dared speak out against the centaur. Tony slid off the car, sliding his wand into his robes. He held his hands out, open palms.

”May I please know your name sir? Or preferred title?”

The centaur walked towards him, “Why do you wish to know?”

”I do not want to be improper, should we ever meet again.”

The centaur considered for a minute, one foot digging into the dirt, creating divots in the earth.

”Very well. My name is Chrion. On behalf of the centaurs of the forest, I wish to thank you for taming that thing.”

Tony bowed deeply, one arm across his abdomen, the other swept behind his back. The centaur raised an eyebrow.

”While I appreciate the gesture, we have no need for it. Please take Harrison and leave us.”

Tony nodded, “but… which way to get back to Hogwarts?”

Chiron gestured with a grand sweeping hand, pointing in the opposite direction. Tony thanked them before tapping the cars roof. The driver’s door opened and the moment Tony was inside the car began heading towards Hogwarts. However it was moving slower, more sedate than normal. Tony stroked his hand across the dash and adjusted the rear view mirror. In the mirror he saw a crowd of centaurs, at least twenty, watching them retreat. Tony let go of the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding onto. He was safe, Harrison was safe. Nothing to worry about. They reached the edge, almost but not quite breaching the treeline. Tony slid out the car and walked to the headlights.

”Did they ever hurt you?”

The car’s engine made a sad rumble, like a person coughing to choke back tears.

”Stay away from them, okay?”

The car made an agreeing toot, soft and gentle, butting its bonnet into Tony’s hand.

”I’m not mad, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.”

Tony turned and headed back for the castle.

 

Nearly three weeks of dating and still Tony felt nothing. Lance acted completely over his ex, but Tony couldn’t stop her pining. She envied Lance for it. They’d hug and Tony would watch as Steve and Bucky heading for lessons over his shoulder, their hands clasped together. She couldn’t remember the last time she'd seen them smile. She still wanted to make them smile. Instead she got dirty looks whenever she touched Lance. Steve looked like he wanted to set her on fire. Bucky looked disappointed, not at her, never her, but at Lance. It was weird. They looked like they hated her. Like they hated Lance too. Tony didn’t even know Bucky knew Lance that well. Steve certainly didn’t. They were all in different classes, hung out with different crowds.

”Hey honey, what’s on your mind?” Lance was looking at her with such affection.

It made Tony want to cry. But instead-

”Nothing at all, sweetie,” Tony smiled.

They both pulled back into a hug. Only now there was a blonde girl watching, sad look on her face. Tony pulled away to stare at her, Lance followed her line of sight. His face instantly set into a grim line.

”That’s my ex, Bobbi. I can talk to her if you like.”

Tony laughed awkwardly, “she’s not bothering us. It’s fine.”

Lance glared at Bobbi. She swiftly moved on, indifference shown in her bland smile. She didn’t care what they did. Lance broke away, still with the scowl.

”I need to go do something,” he said vaguely, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tony nodded, letting him go. Going to do something was clearly an excuse, but Tony would have let him go without a word. The moment Lance was out of sight, Bobbi hooked her arm round Tony’s.

”Let’s grab a drink.”

 

They had ended up in Madam Puddifoots, sipping tea from dainty china cups. Bobbi seemed to want to speak to Tony about something, but was biding her time, waiting for the right moment. Tony tapped the rim of her cup with her nails, enjoying the sound it was making. But the silence between them was… grating to say the least. Tension. It kept building and building, unable to dissipate until one of them said something.

”So, do you drag girls here often?” Tony ventured, “because if you do, I can hazard a guess as to why you and Lance didn’t last.”

Bobbi smiled humourlessly, “and why would that be?”

”Well you dragged a girl to a prime dating spot, my guess is you may be into girls.”

Bobbi choked on her tea, snorting into her cup. She laughed raucously, snorting at the notion. It took ten minutes for her to gain enough composure to talk, Tony sipping her tea in the meanwhile.

”Nope, not that. I actually wanted to talk to you about Lance.”

”You still like him,” Tony stated simply, nibbling on some shortbread.

”I- Uh yes, I do.”

”Okay.”

”Are you not bothered? What if I try and steal him from you?” Bobbi teased.

”There is no debate over who Lance would choose.”

No debate because he liked Bobbi. Tony could see that much. He was a good actor, doting on Tony as much as he could. But he paraded her around like a prize, an object, like she was a banner saying ‘look how over Bobbi Morse I am’. She didn’t mind, but she wasn’t delusional. She was a rebound at best.

”Confident, aren’t you?”

”Not especially. I am simply acting on logic.”

Bobbi sighed sadly, “that’s what I tried to do when I broke up with him.”

Tony didn’t want to ask, but she tipped her head to the side, awaiting the rest of Bobbi’s story.

”I’m moving at the end of this year. I thought I should break up with him now, without him knowing. Otherwise the rest of our time would be spent counting the days until I go. I couldn’t do that to him. I want him to be happy. You seem to make him happy.”

”I’ll take your word for it,” Tony answered disinterested.

Her cup was almost empty, and her side plate was severely lacking shortbread now.

”I know you don’t love him. You barely like him.”

”I like him well enough, thank you,” Tony said primly.

Bobbi was starting to irk her.

”Not as much as you like Steve Rogers. Or is it Barnes. I can never tell, they’re always together. But I recognise pining when I see it. What happened? You found out they were gay and wanted someone else?”

”Something like that I suppose.”

”Then you know they’ll never date you.”

Tony flinched but nodded, “yes, I am aware.”

”You can’t pine over them forever. So I want to offer you something.”

Bobbi pulled a small bottle out of her pocket and slid it across the table. It contained liquid, with a mother of pearl sheen to it. The bottle was sealed with fuchsia wax.

”Drink this when the pining becomes too much. If it gets to the stage you are in pain, drink it.”

”What is it?” Tony picked up the bottle, inspecting it for clues. He had nothing much to go by except the colour.

” _Mediocris Fabula Amoris _.__  Or the fairy tale love potion. If you obtain a kiss from the person this potion tells you to love before the moon reaches its highest point, you’ll love them forever. They’ll love you as well.”

”Sounds sketchy.”

”It is,” Bobbi replied easily, picking up her china teacup, “but that’s the only price you have to pay for a love that loves you back.”

Tony tried to slide it back across the table. Bobbi pushed it back.

”I’m not going to make you drink it. As I said, the moment will come when you don’t want to like Steve or Bucky anymore. When that time comes, wouldn’t you like a way out?”

Tony was lost for words. She was providing Tony with exactly what she wanted. But she didn’t know if she wanted it. It sounded weird, Tony was well aware of that. But this was what she wanted, she was going to stop feeling things for Steve and Bucky. But… she would stop feeling that way for Steve and Bucky. That was something she wasn’t ready to give up.

”And this will make me fall for Lance?”

”Like a kid off his first broom, yes.”

”And he’ll love me?”

”If you kiss him before the moon reaches its highest point, yes.”

”What do you want in exchange for this?”

”I’ve already told you. I want you to make Lance happy, because I won’t be able to.”

”Are you okay with this?” Tony asked tentatively, “making the one you love love someone else?”

”I want him happy,” she sipped her tea, “even if it means I’m not.”

Tony knew the feeling. She slid the bottle across to Tony once again. Then she stood and walked away, not once looking back. Tony hid the bottle in her hand, hiding it quickly in the pocket of her robes. She left shortly after, fingers constantly brushing against the cold glass bottle.

 

Halfway back to Hogwarts he ran into Rhodey, quickly changing back to himself to meet his best friend. They joined up together, not a word needing to be spoken. But as always, the silence became too much for Tony to bear.

”So… how you doin’?” Tony asked, stretching his arms above his head.

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this. This is huge!”

Tony’s stomach bottomed out. Did Rhodey know about the Love Potion? The tiny bottle weighed worlds, dragging him down into hell where he belonged. He knew love potions weren’t right but he was running out of options fast. He was tired of hurting, tired of wanting the impossible and tired of never getting it.

”You’re dating someone!”

Rhodey seemed to want to celebrate. But… it wasn’t a big deal. He was just casually seeing Lance. It was nothing major. Not yet, he thought, gripping that tiny bottle tightly.

”What’s he like?” Rhodey pestered, stopping Tony by the shoulders.

”Y’know, he’s nice. He likes me… kind of.”

Rhodey frowned at ‘kind of’, not requesting clarification, but expecting Tony to give it to him anyway.

With a roll of his eyes, Tony continued, “he likes Laura, or Antonia, whatever I call her. Female me. But he’s nice. He likes me. And he’s not Steve or Bucky so it’s all good there.”

”But Tony-”

”And I could love him,” Tony confessed, admitting far more than Rhodey knew, “It wouldn’t take much. He respects me, doesn’t make me do anything I don’t want to. He’s nice.”

”So you’ve said. Three times. You don’t really sound convinced.”

”It’s still early days,” Tony countered, “We haven’t been dating for all that long.”

”And yet you know you love him?”

”I know I _could_ love him. There's a difference. Any girl would be lucky to have him,” and his mind shot off to Bobbi.

She was sad as she walked away. Her face was impassive but Tony knew. Knew what it was like to give up someone for the sake of that person’s happiness. Knew the weight you would be forced to carry, the hurdles you’d have to get over, the pain you’d have to endure with a smile. To pretend none of it mattered when in reality it consumed you. Any girl would be lucky to have Lance, but Lance wanted Bobbi, and it’s want, lust, desire that makes all the difference.

”Anybody home?” Rhodey waved his hand in front of Tony’s eyes, poking his nose when he didn’t respond.

Tony tried to bite his finger. He tried whenever Rhodey poked him.

”That’s never worked, why do you still try?”

Tony pouted, “I might get you, one day.”

Rhodey laughed, shaking his head, “you never give up, do you?”

It wasn’t really a question, because they both knew Tony had to give up lots of things. Things he wanted, things he needed, and certainly from Rhodey’s perspective, things Tony deserved.

 

Things got better. Things have a habit of doing that. Tony spent most of her lunchtimes and breaks with Lance, rarely seeing the group. She missed them, of course she did, how could she not. But if she didn’t see Steve and Bucky, she could forget they were there. Pretend there were no feelings. Deny everything. But things got worse. They have a habit of doing that too, and always - at least in Tony’s view - seemed to favour getting worse over better. She was sitting on Lance’s lap, making out with him in the corridor, right by the kitchens. Footsteps walked down the corridor, stopping some distance from them. Tony paid it no mind, why would she? The corridor always had someone going up and down it, and some people liked to gawk. Tony wasn’t shy about what she was doing. That is, until she was being forcibly pulled off him, two very beefy men pinning Lance down. Steve and Bucky. Why was it __always__  those two? It never seemed to be Pepper and Rhodey, or Natasha and Clint and Phil.

”What the fuck?” Bucky growled at a thoroughly confused Lance.

”Cheating scumbag.”

Lance recovered himself fast, “idiots, I’m not cheating. That’s my girlfriend.”

Tony gave them a small wave, arm not moving away from her side.

”You’re dating Tony, though!” Steve snarled.

A lesser man would have been intimidated or afraid. Lance wasn’t lesser, but he certainly seemed a little stupid.

”I am, that’s Tony,” he insisted.

Steve’s fist connected with the wall, the stone crumbling beneath his knuckles, “Tony Stark!” he yelled.

The sound echoed around the hallway, each reverberation causing Tony to flinch. She tried to get between them, but Bucky held her back. She turned to him, silently seething at being manhandled away from something that was clearly her business.

”If you do not let me go, so help me Bucky Barnes, Madam Hunter won’t be able to remove your wand it will be so far up your ass.”

Bucky let go, more in shock than anything else, “Tony,” he said, in hushed tones, “why are you- you look like her from those comics.”

”Could you please stop _your_ boyfriend from killing _my_ boyfriend?” she grit out from behind clenched teeth.

Bucky nodded like a good little soldier, stepping in front of Steve.

”Steve, she _is_ Tony. That girl is Tony Stark.”

Steve released his grip on Lance’s robes, the boy sliding to the ground, back against the wall. Steve turned to Tony, voice unable to become more than a whisper.

”Tony,” and it was said with such reverence, such an aching tone that Tony couldn’t help but hope.

And every single time she hoped, it shattered apart moments later, the second Bucky took Steve’s hand and the moment Steve kissed Bucky. Bobbi was right. She would be unable to handle this. She was reaching her limit.

”Tony, why do you- why aren’t you you?” Steve looked stunned, a lasting confusion that seemed to spread through him.

”Because no one ever wanted me for me,” she hissed, loathing herself and her words and every moment that made her hope.

”We did,” Bucky said softly.

”Never in the right way,” Tony insisted.

They needed to stop doing this, stop giving her hope. She turned and stalked off, ignoring any and all calls of her name, not caring where they were from.

 

As she always did, she found herself in Myrtle’s bathroom. She let herself be himself again, hair shortening into his dark curls. Only they weren’t dark brown. Blood, oceanic depths, ash. Colours to match his mood. Myrtle tried to get him to talk but instead he slunk around the back of the pedestal of sinks, lowering himself to the floor. Pounding feet told him of the arrival of the unwelcome. He knew it was them, knew that they followed him. They would never leave them alone, and he in turn would never be allowed to stop loving them. Myrtle floated around the pedestal, ducking out of their view for a moment. But a moment was all she needed. Tony gave her a slight shake of his head. And that was it. She would always do anything to protect him.

”He’s not here.”

Her statement was simple, bored even. As if she had been expecting them. She had. But they didn’t know that. They spluttered their surprise, before turning to search elsewhere, thanking her for her time. She waited, peering out of the room. Silence reigned for a time, heavy and cloying, like black smoke from a bonfire.

”Why did you want them to go?” she asked softly, even though they were long out of earshot.

”Because I can’t do this. They keep giving me hope and then wrestling it from me. You know what Bucky told me. They want me the way I am. Not as Antonia or Laura or anyone else. They want me as me. What am I meant to take that as?”

”I don’t know.”

”Me neither. But I know not to take it the way I want to. They don’t love me. They love each other and I’m just the friend that got them together. I need to love someone else.”

His hand automatically reached for the little bottle in his pocket. It had lived there since Bobbi had given it to him. A pearly potion with a wax seal.

”Myrtle, what time is it?”

She turned her head, glancing out of the window into darkness.

”Night-time?”

He laughed, searching his bag for his watch. Five minutes until midnight. He didn’t have long to wait until he could drink this and give himself the most time to kiss Lance. It was sketchy. It was deceitful. It would all be fake. The seconds ticked by slowly as Tony rolled the bottle between his fingers.

”What is that?”

”Something like hope.”

Six minutes had passed. It was past midnight. Now or never. Tony broke the wax seal, sniffing the potion curiously. It smelt like… Tony frowned. He expected strong black coffee. But it was sweeter. He could smell coffee, sure, but there was hot chocolate with… a spice he couldn’t place. And he could smell apples… and caramel? No, kind of a burnt sugar smell. And Cinnamon. It smelt warm. It smelt safe. It smelt like a memory he couldn’t recall. It felt like it was always there but never with him. Tony was breathing slowly and deeply, the smell filling his senses. No time like the present. He drained the potion. It tasted like a mocha with apple syrup. It tasted like the best coffee he’d ever had.


	14. Love-Struck, Love-Shy, and Love-Sick

#  ****Chapter Fourteen - Love-Struck, Love-Shy, and Love-Sick** **

He didn’t feel anything at first. For ten minutes he wondered if the potion was a dud. But then his thoughts wandered. Wandered to Lance, Lance’s hands, his chest, his lips. Wandered to his laughter and his smile. Tony smiled dreamily for a while. He really missed Lance, he should go see him. So with his wandering thoughts, he wandered through the castle. It was just past midnight and the corridors had a few straggling Seventh Years making their way to bed. No one Tony cared about, because there was only one Tony cared about. His head was full of nothing else. Lance liked Tony to be a girl so Tony let himself change as he walked, no longer a man but a woman. Her steps shortened, her gait changing from long strides to uneven and unpredictable skips. She was in love. She had been before but that love had long since turned to pain. This love, oh this love would be different. This love was excitement, this love was giddy, this love would be unbreakable with only a kiss. She grinned dozily, letting her feet carry her to the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room. She couldn’t get inside, but she could wait for Lance so they could have breakfast together. She sat on the floor opposite the barrels where she knew the entrance lay. And there she sat, the hours ticking away. She felt so elated. She was lucky to love someone so much. Floating, that’s how she felt, like she was floating away to a better place. To a happily ever after.

”Miss, are you okay?”

Tony turned, smiling dreamily up at the speaker. She nodded, her eyes falling to the barrels.

”Are you waiting for someone?”

”I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

”Who’s your boyfriend? I can get him for you.”

”Lance, Lance Hunter,” Tony answered, unable to stop the goofy grin on her face.

”Tony?” the speaker said.

”Clint, hi,” Tony blinked at the man stooped over him, like it was the first time she’d ever seen Clint, “what are you doing here?”

”This is my common room,” Clint seemed to be torn between wanting to laugh and confusion, “you’re waiting for Lance?”

”Yes, I love him.”

Tony’s eyes fixated on the barrels. If Lance came out, she didn’t want to miss a second, a moment. Clint’s hand brushed her arm, before he tugged it back sharply, the hand clawing around pain. It looked like his hand was cramping, but it was more than that. He looked like he had an intense migraine from just touching Tony.

”Fuck, that’s not you saying that,” he whispered.

Tony hummed happily, swaying in time to her own tune. Clint knelt down, took a deep breath and pulled her up by her elbow.

”Lance isn’t in the common room, but he’s planned a surprise for you. I can take you there if you like?”

Tony nodded, gazing a little blankly in Clint’s direction, through instead of at him. Clint helped her too her feet, steadying her as she stumbled. He led her through the castle, eventually pulling her into a disused classroom. All the furniture was pushed to the walls, chairs stacked, desks piled on top of each other.

”Lance wants you to wait here while he finishes his preparations. Can you do that for him?”

Tony nodded emphatically, moving to follow Clint out the door.

”No, Tony. Lance wants you to wait here. Do you understand?”

Tony nodded again, still following Clint to the door every time he tried to leave. Clint sighed. This would not be easy.

”I’m not going to see Lance, Tony. He’s coming here to see you. So you need to wait here.”

Again with the nods. Clint sighed before quickly running out the door. He locked it behind him. Tony sat quietly in the room. She dangled her legs over the edge of the desk she was sat on, swinging them in time to her humming. Lance loved her. He was planning a surprise for her, so she had to wait here. Clint would be back soon with Lance. Then they could kiss and live happily ever after. No need to panic.

 

Clint was panicking. How could he not? He ran the halls, in hope he could find someone to help him. Natasha. He always had Natasha. All it would take is a thought, and she’d be here.

”You called?” she arched an eyebrow at him.

”How the hell did you get here so quickly?”

She smiled, “magic.”

”Right, but I need help.”

”I figured. What do you need?”

”I think Tony’s been given a love potion.”

”What makes you think that?”

She didn’t not believe him. She just, she needed the facts. They could work from there.

”It was clear as day. He said he loved Lance.”

Natasha’s mouth formed a small ‘o’, “well I doubt that. I’m pretty sure he’s been pining for his favourite pair from the moment they came back from Christmas. We should find Rhodey. He’ll know what to do.”

”Would Pepper be able to help? Steve and Bucky?”

”Getting those two involved would just hurt them and Tony too. I’ll get Pepper. You find a way to get Rhodey without getting Steve too.”

”Okay.”

They nodded, turning their separate ways down the halls. Clint had no idea what to do. He didn’t have a way into the Gryffindor common room, and he could hardly reach Rhodey from here. He sighed. It was hopeless. There was nothing he could do without getting a Gryffindor to do it for him. Clint climbed the stairs to Gryffindor tower, trying to think of a solution, nothing jumping to mind. He found himself in front of the fat lady, hoping she wouldn’t wake with him there. She’d scream bloody murder if she found a non-Gryffindor hanging around. But something - or rather someone - floated through the painting.

”Sir Nicholas,” Clint exclaimed, “I need help.”

The ghost turned to him, head wobbling dangerously on his neck.

”If I can, I will certainly endeavour to assist.”

”I need you to wake up one of the Gryffindors, I need his help. His name is James Rhodes, the head boy. Do you know him?”

Sir Nick nodded, “I am familiar with him. I will return in a moment. Who should I say requests him?”

”Clint. And please tell him Tony needs him.”

”Understood,” the ghost bowed cordially before disappearing into the wall.

Moments later, Rhodey burst through the portrait, frenetic look in his eyes.

”What happened to Tony?”

”It’s not life or death, so breathe,” Clint started to head down the corridor and the stairs, expecting Rhodey to follow.

”Then what happened?” he demanded, which would have sounded more authoritative if he wasn’t so breathless.

”Not 100% but I’m thinking he drank a love potion.”

”Shit!”

They picked up the pace, until they were right outside the classroom Tony was in. They waited for Natasha to bring Pepper, then opened the door slowly.

 

Tony was grinning inanely at the door as they walked in. She stood expectantly when the door open, disappointment streaking her face when everyone made it through the door.

”Where’s Lance?”

”See what I mean?” Clint muttered out the corner of his mouth, “he’s coming, don’t worry.”

”Tony,” Rhodey placed his hands on Tony’s shoulders, anchoring him down, “Clint says you love Lance. Do you mean that?”

”I do, I love him. He’s the one.”

”Tony, barely a week ago you told me he ‘liked you, kind of’. How did that turn to love?”

Tony wasn’t paying attention, gaping at the door with a dazed look on her face. Everyone else exchanged concerned glances.

”Do we know what type of love potion it was? How it was administered?”

”Not a clue,” Clint shook his head, “Tony, did you eat or drink anything that smelled or tasted strange today?”

Tony wavered like she was trying to make up her mind. Blinking slowly, she seemed to break free of her daze, if only for a moment. She frowned deeply.

”I drank an apple mocha thing. But it looked like liquid pearl,” Tony’s face broke into a huge smile, “I love Lance.”

”Was there any spiraling vapours?” Pepper asked, pushing Tony gently into a chair.

Tony shook her head vigorously.

”Well, he didn’t drink Amortentia-”

”She,” Tony corrected gently, “I’m a she for Lance.”

Pepper knelt in front of Tony, hand cupping his cheek. Tony felt warm beneath her palm, almost feverishly so. Her cheeks were flushed and her pupils dilated. But she smiled brightly at Pepper, like nothing in the world had ever nor could ever hurt her. But that smile, god that smile hurt everyone else. Tony’s smiles could hold the stars. But this smile, it was empty. A product of a potion-induced hallucination.

”Do you know what you drank?” she asked Tony gently, stroking her finger over Tony’s cheekbone.

Tony closed her eyes at the touch, relaxing into the movement, “it was something to do with...” Tony blinked lethargically, “Lance is my prince.”

”Why is he your prince?” Pepper asked patiently, hand sliding up to scratch lightly along her scalp.

”Because…” Tony was slurring her words, the touch turning her to putty, “he’s my prince. We need to kiss before midnight, otherwise the- it won’t work. I won’t love him and I want to love him.”

Tony felt so odd. She felt touched starved, craving attention. Pepper was taking the edge off but she wasn’t enough. Tony wanted more. She needed more, she needed Lance.

”I need him,” Tony whined, hiding her face against Pepper’s shoulder.

Pepper stroked Tony’s hair, aiming at keeping her distracted. Clint was pacing by the door, ready to stop anyone coming in, or worse, Tony trying to get out. Natasha was standing by the window, glaring not at the outside but at the glass, at her own reflection.

“I’m pretty sure I know what she drank,” Natasha thought aloud, “I didn’t realise it had made it to Hogwarts but it was pretty popular in Germany and France. It’s called the fairy tale love potion. It’s been banned throughout Europe, and is often unregulated and made poorly. It can convince the drinker that they have one true love, and it is this very one specific person. Apparently, the potion causes them to put them on a pedestal, calling them Prince or King or Lord.”

”How do we cure it?” Rhodey asked, rubbing a thumb across the back of Tony’s neck.

”We don’t. We can’t. It is considered second only to Amortentia. It will last at most just under 24 hours. The reason it is called a fairy tale potion is because the drinker must kiss their supposed true love-”

”He _is_ my true love!”

”-Supposed true love by midnight, to make the effects permanent. It’s incredibly complex but not impossible to undo, however if the person does manage to kiss their love, both will fall under the effects and are often very… reluctant to undo it.”

”No, it’s not some potion,” Tony insisted, pushing away Pepper’s hands, “I _am_ in love with him.”

”Part of me really wants to video this,” Clint admitted, “let her watch it back later.”

”Don’t you dare,” Pepper hissed, pointing her wand at him.

Clint raised his hands in surrender, “I wouldn’t actually. She’s going to have to remember it anyway.”

”Actually, I don’t think she will. The potion has a Cinderella rule. The original creator was clearly muggle-born, growing up on those kind of stories. The Cinderella rule will wipe the slate clean, return things to as they were before the magic spell. This is meant to include memories. I don’t know how effective it is. I wonder if she will retain _any_ memories.”

”I will remember,” Tony argued, “I will remember I love him.”

Natasha sat next to him, picking up a hand and patting it, “when this is over, you won’t want to, trust me.”

”I miss Lance, how long until the surprise is ready?”

Natasha and Clint exchanged glances.

”Soon, we promise.”

 

As time went on, Tony was getting more anxious, more frustrated, more desperate to see the apparent love of her life. She was scratching at her skin, rocking back and forward slightly. Her hair was becoming frizzy and breathing was erratic.

”This isn’t good,” Clint commented, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead.

She was burning up, eyes getting foggy and skin hot to the touch. Sweat was beading slightly across her brow. Clint turned to the others, biting his lip.

”Is she okay?”

Natasha shrugged, “everyone reacts differently to potions. Or it could be a bad batch. There’s no real way to tell.”

”So, she could die from it?” Rhodey asked bluntly, jumping up to stand between Natasha and Tony, as if that could control anything.

”I’m not an expert, but I haven’t heard of anyone dying from it.”

They all fell into seats around Tony, who couldn’t keep still. She was constantly sitting, bouncing her leg up and down, then standing, drumming her hand on the table. Then sitting again, rocking back and forth while humming. Then standing and pacing a small circle around them. Everyone was flagging, having been up most of the night and now well into the morning.

”I think we need to start sleeping. We’ll do shifts. Rhodey, Pepper, you two first.”

”We can keep going,” Pepper started to argue, Natasha holding up a hand to silence her.

”We will sleep after, get a couple of hours then we’ll trade. We only need two people to hold her here. We also still have another-” Natasha glanced at her watch, “-twelve hours, and forty-five minutes. We’ll all need to sleep.”

Pepper capitulated, Rhodey agreeing with her. They sat against the back wall, pulling their cloaks around them like blankets. A few moments later, Pepper was fast asleep. But Rhodey was faking. Those snores were not convincing in the slightest. Natasha rolled her eyes at him but let him be. If he wanted to pretend to be asleep, let him. He probably wanted to keep an eye on Tony.

 

It came out of no where. The door swung open, Peter Parker standing at the threshold.

”Guys, there you are. I think Steve is-”

Tony bolted out the newly open door, Peter pressed himself to the door, to let her pass.

”Stop her,” Pepper cried out.

Peter stood in confusion as four more people rushed past him. He followed suit, chasing after the brown and green haired girl that the other four seemed to have been guarding. He caught up to them all - sans the green haired girl - standing in the Entrance hall, looking around.

”Did you see where she went?” Natasha asked Peter frantically.

And wasn’t that scary, a frantic Natasha. Peter shook his head quickly.

”Dammit,” she cursed, along with a whole slew of other words not fit to print.

Peter was pretty sure she cursed her own parents for having her somewhere in there, as well as threatening to set Tony on fire if she couldn’t find the poor guy in an hour. He had no idea what Tony had to do with this but he certainly was certainly smart enough to not ask.

”Let’s split up, search the castle,” Clint suggested, “guess we’re doing this again.”

Everyone nodded and headed in different direction.

 

Bucky was… nonplussed maybe. He couldn’t quite place a finger on how he felt. He had so many questions and honestly didn’t know where to start. How did she get in here? Did she know the password? Was she okay? Was she looking for Lance? But mostly, the question right at the forefront of his mind, why was she in his bed of all places? Not one of these he voiced, because Tony was asleep. In his bed. And God, Bucky was certain Tony was trying to drive him insane. This wasn’t fair. He almost whined out loud when he first saw Tony. Tony had also somehow located Steve’s jumper that Bucky had borrowed, oh when was it, just after Christmas. She wasn’t wearing it though. She was… hugging it close. Ten minutes. That’s how long Bucky had been trying to wrap his head around this. Ten minutes of his mouth agape and his eyes still trying to comprehend that Tony was willingly in his bed. The universe was either very kind or painfully cruel. Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, combing his fingers through Tony’s hair. At every touch, Tony seemed to become less and less… female. Tony was looking like himself. He pulled the jumper closer, burying his face in it. Bucky needed to wake him up. This wasn’t right. Maybe he thought this was Lance’s bed.

”Tony, wake up,” Bucky gently rocked him, trying to rouse his sleeping friend.

He retrieved nothing beyond a groan for his effort.

”This isn’t your bed.”

Tony made a soft ‘uh-huh’ sound into the pillow.

”You know this isn’t your bed?”

”Uh-huh,” Tony answered again, stubbornly curling away from the sound.

”Then what are you doing?”

”It smells nice,” Tony mused, the sound muffled by a jumper and a pillow, “like… apples and a mocha.”

Bucky huffed a quiet laugh. So Tony was in his bed because it smelt like chocolate, coffee, and apples. Maybe Tony had fallen asleep while working and tried to sleepwalk to the kitchens. The kid must be tired. Bucky let him fall back asleep. He was glad to see Tony again, barely having seen him for nearly a month. But this wasn’t quite how he pictured it. A dark little part of his mind had hoped Lance would be out of the picture. And Tony would love him, and love Steve. But seeing Tony as Tony was enough. Enough to ease that pain in his chest that had him worrying whether Tony was okay. Enough that he could tell Steve that Tony didn’t hate them. The proof of that was in his bed. A thought crossed Bucky’s mind, seeing the way Tony had curled protectively around the jumper. Did Tony _miss_ them? Footsteps on the stairs pulled him from his thoughts, Clint running into the room with Phil on his heels. They cast a glance at him. Nothing more. They were in too much of a rush. Clint threw open his trunk, tipping half the contents onto the floor. Bucky pressed a finger to his lips anyway, the other hand coming to cover Tony’s ear - well the one that wasn’t pressed to a pillow. Phil turned to him for a second, giving him a once over, but neither of them seemed to find it even a little odd that he was sat on the edge of his own bed.

”We could use him,” Phil whispered to Clint, the room so quiet that Bucky could hear it as if they were shouting.

”Nat says it could end up hurting him, Steve too. We can’t. We just have to keep looking for her,” Clint hissed back.

”Who are you looking for?” Bucky piped up, no shame in eavesdropping.

”Umm,” Clint shot a glance at Phil, who stepped forward.

”Tony’s been dosed with love potion, and he-”

”She,” Clint corrected.

”-She,” Phil nodded to acknowledge his mistake, “ran off.”

”Who does Tony think she loves?” Bucky asked, worry instantly cloying at him.

Like a frozen hand had seized around his heart. Was Tony only here because a potion told him he loved Bucky. Bucky hated the thought, wishing he could banish it to the furthest reaches of his mind.

”Lance,” Clint shrugged, “we don’t even know where Lance is.”

”Well, I don’t know about that but I know where Tony is.”

Two pairs of eyes widened at the new information, stepping forward desperately. Bucky pointed down at Tony, who had migrated onto Bucky’s lap. His breathing was steady and eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. Clint managed a relieved laugh, brushing a hand through his short hair. Phil placed a hand on the small of Clint’s back, pulling him fractionally closer. Bucky watched the pair. There was such unspoken intimacy between them, in every movement, every moment. Phil pressed a soft kiss to Clint’s cheek, pushing him forward slightly.

”I’ll tell Natasha.”

And Phil was gone, shaking his head with a sigh. His footsteps receded and still Clint hadn’t said a word since he found Tony. Bucky wasn’t fond of silence, certainly not when it was as awkward as this.

”He was on my bed when I got here.”

He really hadn’t meant for that to sound so defensive. But Clint nodded understandingly.

”I know. Why is he here though?”

Bucky shrugged, “I don’t know. He said he was on my bed because it smelt like a mocha and apples,” Bucky laughed lightly, “I thought he might have sleepwalked here, aiming for the kitchens.”

Clint shook his head, tiny smile on his face, “he would have been looking for Lance. I guess you managed to stop him.”

”I wasn’t here to stop him.”

”Doesn’t mean you didn’t have a hand in it,” Clint smiled, acting annoyingly coy.

”Should I- should I leave him? What if Lance comes back? Won’t he think Tony’s cheating on him?”

Clint crossed his arms, looking curiously at Tony, “I don’t think Tony’s ever been a guy around Lance. Not while dating at least. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t know that he was dating Tony Stark. But we should get him out of here. Nat says he probably won’t remember what happened today, so I reckon waking up in a strange dorm won’t be the best option.”

Bucky nodded, carefully lifting Tony up bridal style. Tony whined, grabbing blindly for the jumper he’d left on the bed. Clint handed it to Tony, that small coy smile returning.

”This isn’t yours, is it?”

”Nope, it’s Steve’s. I borrowed it over Christmas.”

Clint looked like that answer didn’t surprise him even slightly. In fact Bucky would swear on his life that Clint muttered ‘figured’ before he led Bucky out of the dorm.

 

Tony remained blissfully asleep as they carried him back to the empty classroom where he’d been held for so long. Steve was waiting anxiously at the door for them.

”Rhodey told me what happened, is he okay?”

Bucky nodded, smiling at Steve and kissing him, carefully making sure Tony wasn’t crushed between them. He pulled away. Or tried to. One of Tony’s hands seemed to be caught in the hem of Steve’s shirt. But when Steve tried to untangle it, Tony growled in his sleep. Bucky stifled a laugh, which became infinitely harder to do when Steve gave him a helpless look.

”From what Clint said, this is a side effect of the potion,” Bucky explained, unable to keep the mirth from his voice, “and that means you can hold him for a second,” he carefully transferred Tony into Steve’s arms, stretching out his own once they were empty, “mine are aching.”

”Wuss,” Steve teased, “he’s really light,” Steve frowned suddenly, shifting Tony slightly in his grip, “ _really_ light.”

Pepper sighed behind them, “I’ll grab him some food. He does this a lot.”

”Does what?” Steve called after her curiously.

”Forgets to eat,” she replied, waving her hand without looking back.

Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes, walking into the classroom at last. They settled Tony on the floor, propped upright by the back wall. Steve sat himself next to Tony, pulling Bucky onto his lap. He kissed him hard, trying to put everything he felt into one action. All the happiness that Bucky was his to kiss, all the relief that he loved Bucky and Bucky loved him and they both loved Tony. And all the uncertainty that Bucky still wanted this, that Bucky didn’t want Tony more, didn’t want Steve less. Bucky pulled back, cheeks flushed, and a little breathless.

”Fuck, I love you,” Bucky murmured, not realising it was the first time he’d said it out loud.

”More than Tony?” Steve teased.

But Bucky could hear it, the uneasiness. The doubt. The unresolved feelings that - and Bucky was nearly certain of this now - all three of them seemed to share.

”I love you as much as I love him. But in different ways. And I’m pretty sure it’s the same for you.”

Steve nodded, once, sharply.

”And I’m pretty sure it’s the same for him too.”

Steve’s eyes widened just a fraction. Just enough for Bucky to know that Steve wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to the fact Tony was resting his head against Steve’s shoulder with the jumper still in his clasp.

 

With two hours left of the potion’s effects, Natasha and Clint were in a heated - though whispered - argument. And it all started with a small comment.

”We found him in Bucky’s bed.”

”Huh, I didn’t know that part was true,” Natasha had commented idly, filing her nails.

”Didn’t know what part was true?” Phil chimed in, moving to stand between Clint and Natasha.

You aren’t partners with two people for two and bit years without learning when said people are about to argue.

”Apparently,” Natasha said this with a smug grin, “if the person under the effects of the potion finds the person of their actual desires, it can nullify some of the effects. Mostly the longing and the somewhat unnatural ability to stay awake. Hence asleep.”

Clint grit his teeth, desperately trying not to lose his temper, “that would have been helpful to know, Nat.”

She shrugged, attention mostly on her nails, “I didn’t think it important.”

”Didn’t think it important?” Clint echoed derisively, “didn’t think it important. We could have solve this thing a whole lot sooner if we’d got Steve and Bucky involved right from the beginning.”

Natasha stopped filing her nails, only long enough to fix Clint with a look, “and tell them what?”

”The truth!”

Natasha scoffed under her breath, but the sweep of the file became a lot more brutal.

”Or lie,” Clint offered, “but you need to tell me this shit!”

”Why? It would have made no difference. And look at them,” she gestured to the trio, Tony blinking sluggishly as he tried to pull himself to full consciousness, “Bucky is now more certain how Tony feels. We didn’t know how Tony felt. _You_ couldn’t get a read on him,” Natasha stated, but her tone felt like a jab, accusing Clint of not getting through, “Based on what Tony said in your dorm, and how he described the potion, and how close he seems to be staying to those two, we now _know_ how he feels.”

”They aren’t your toys,” Clint hissed at her.

”Good, because I’m not playing,” she stood chest to chest with him, glaring.

Phil sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He should intervene. But honestly it was better to leave them too it.

”You are though, you are messing with real people. Did you know he would head to the Hufflepuff common room?”

”I had an thought he might, though honestly, you should’ve too. That’s where you _found_ him.”

”Oh, so this is my fault?”

Natasha smirked. Of course he’d say that. He seemed to always seek guilt, even when it wasn’t deserved. And it was rarely deserved.

”This isn’t anyone’s fault but whoever gave Tony the potion. And look, stop thinking of what ifs. We have him back and the three of them are happy. In fact, I haven’t seen any of them look this relaxed since before Christmas, and even then there was so much sexual tension I’m surprised it didn’t crush them. This _helped_ , even if you don’t see it that way.”

”I see it,” Clint admitted reluctantly, “I just wish you would actually talk to us about your plans.”

”You wouldn’t agree,” she stated simply.

”Maybe not,” Clint agreed, “but we’re meant to be a team.” He took her hand and Phil’s, clasping them tightly, “please, next time, just keep us in the loop.”

Natasha was nearly stunned into silence, “so you’re mad because I didn’t share my evil plot?”

”If you’re going to take over the world, we wanna be your partners in crime,” Phil said it so simply.

Natasha leaned forward kissing them both on the lips. Chaste and sweet. But Clint and Phil were blushing as if she’d reached down their pants.

”You’re always my partners in crime. We’ll take over the world together.”

They beamed at her. That was her ‘I love you’ and the three of them knew it.

 

Pepper was kneeling in front of Tony, clicking her fingers to keep his attention on her.

”Tony, who gave you the apple mocha thing?”

Bucky gave her a weird look but let it pass without comment. Tony blinked slowly, having trouble focusing. His face was half hidden behind Steve. He was breathing deeply, fingers tapping against Bucky's thigh.

”I-”

”Does this have to be done now?” Steve interrupted, “can’t he rest?”

Pepper shook her head sadly, “according to Nat, there’s a strong chance he won’t remember anything about today, maybe even the potion at all. So yes, this has to be done now.”

”I gave me the potion,” Tony answered, looking very muddled, “but I didn’t get it from me.”

Pepper sighed into her hands. That barely made sense. It was like Tony was drugged. Actually, she supposed he was.

”I got it from someone else but I drank it myself,” Tony clarified at Pepper’s confusion.

”Why did you drink it?”

Tony sagged forwards slightly, Pepper propping him up with her hands.

”I didn’t want to be in love anymore.”

”You drank a love potion to stop being in love?” Rhodey asked, “sure, that makes _so_ much sense.”

”Rhodey, not now,” Pepper snapped, hands soothing Tony as she ran them up and down his arms, “Why didn’t you want to be in love anymore?”

”Because they don’t love me back.”

”And who are ‘they’, Tony?”

”I’m not telling,” he mumbled, and there was a slur in his words, “you already know.”

Bucky and Steve looked at her expectantly, with such hope in their eyes, but she shrugged. She wouldn’t tell them. They still weren’t level sevens after all.

”Who gave you the potion, Tony?” Pepper asked patiently.

He frowned, moving his hand to tap on the table. He kept tapping the table over and over again, the same pattern on repeat.

”I don’t remember the name,” Tony replied, still tapping.

”Is that morse code?” Bucky asked.

Steve nodded, “yeah, I learnt it back in Primary School.”

”Can you translate it?”

Steve nodded, counting out the taps, “B-O-B-B-I. Over and over again.”

Pepper kissed Tony on the forehead, “you very very dumb genius. You mean Bobbi Morse, don’t you?”

Tony frowned at her, “that sounds right.”

Pepper stood gracefully, walking to Clint and Natasha. A few whispered words, and the red heads walked out the room.

”I think someone should warn Bobbi,” Bucky mused.

No one made any effort to move.

 

A couple more hours passed and soon Tony was completely free of the potion’s effects. It was a weird moment to witness, the moment when it was all out of his system. It was like the shutters fell down for a moment, his system crashing before resetting. Then he was back on, looking around the room in confusion. He opened his mouth several times, only to snap it shut again. Finally he settled on-

”I’ve missed something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone know any cures for homesickness??? 
> 
> Oh and writers block?


	15. Pathetic Hopes and Prophetic Dreams

#  ****Chapter Fifteen - Pathetic Hopes and Prophetic Dreams** **

“We need to talk.”

Tony sighed and turned on his heel to face a very angry Rhodey.

”I know. Can I say my piece first?”

Rhodey’s hand gave a waving gesture, which Tony took for go ahead.

”Okay, so I know I shouldn’t have taken the love potion. It raises all sorts of questions around consent,” Tony ran an irate hand through his hair, contributing to his already disheveled look, “I mean, fuck, I’m so glad I didn’t kiss him. He couldn’t have agreed to it, wouldn’t have if I had told him. It was horrible, a complete dick move on my part.”

”But?” Rhodey asked, eyebrows raised. Something told him that wasn’t the end of it.

”But nothing. I have no excuses. Hell, even my reasoning for doing it in the first place was because I was a dick.”

”Why did you do it?”

”I was desperate. You know what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t love you back?”

”I have some idea.”

”Times that by two,” Tony moved to run his hand through his hair again before pulling it down, “but it was my worst idea. Ever. And I’ve had a lot of bad ones. But this,” Tony let out a frustrated noise, “this would make me into my dad. And I don’t want that.”

Rhodey paused at that, “did your dad… y’know, to your mum?”

Tony shook his head, “not her, but after mum left. There was someone, I don’t remember her too well. Dad got bored of her. Then she was gone.”

”Oh.”

There was nothing to be said after that. At least Rhodey thought so. Tony, as always, disagreed.

”I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to manipulate people and get rid of them when I get bored.”

”You could never be like that,” Rhodey reassured.

Tony smiled, smiled like he was explaining something to a very small child, “yes I could. I’m just like him, people have certainly said it enough times. But I don’t want to be like that. It’s a choice I’m making. And that’s something I almost deprived Lance of, and myself. A choice in who we love. I shouldn’t have done that, and…” Tony took a deep breath, hand instantly shooting up to his hair before he forced it down again, “and I’m going to break up with Lance. I shouldn’t need a potion in a bottle to make someone love me, right?”

Rhodey nodded, pulling Tony into a hug, “definitely not. I love you Tones.”

”Yeah, I know. Like a brother,” Tony grinned back, before it fell away, “I’m not an idiot, I know who you really love. And sorry I take up so much of her time.”

”Tones, it isn’t your fault.”

”I know. Its her choice, and isn’t that just a kick in the crotch.”

Rhodey nodded, arm thrown around Tony’s shoulder as they walked.

”Also, people really need to stop saying they love me. Steve and Bucky keep doing it too,” Tony’s face twisted into something between a smile and a grimace.

”Have you considered that they might mean it in the way you hope?”

”And have _you_ considered that they definitely don’t? Also, change of tune much, you told me to date someone else.”

Rhodey nodded, face shifting to something guilty, “and I was wrong about that.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at the taller man, “what did I miss while high on fairy liquid?”

Rhodey walked away, not saying a word.

”Fine, don’t tell me,” Tony yelled after him, before running to catch up. “Tell meeeee,” he whined.

”Now who’s changing their tune?” Rhodey teased, “and you know you fell asleep on Bucky’s bed?”

”That’s what everyone told me,” Tony shrugged, “I have a completely lost Saturday thanks to my horrible life choices. Not for the first time.”

”Well,” Rhodey hesitated, trying to find a way to phrase it, “he let you sleep. He thought you sleepwalked in at first. Your needs over his.”

”So? I’m sure you would’ve done the same.”

”I would not,” Rhodey sounded offended by the suggestion, “You’d be turfed on your ass. You are not sleeping in my bed. Hell no.”

”Okay, message received. So mean,” Tony pouted.

But Rhodey was lying, they both knew that. But there was something different in how. Rhodey would have just left him to it, but from what Rhodey heard from Clint, there had been hair stroking involved. That would not be something he’d do of his own accord.

”Your needs first. They both do. When Pepper was interrogating you, Steve tried to stop her to let you sleep, because you were kind of doped up and kept passing out on us. It’s just worth considering as a possibility. You don’t have to make a move or anything.”

”Don’t give me hope. Do you not get that constantly having my hopes dashed is kinda what led to horrible life choices? I am not so pathetic that I’m going to go down that road again. Also,” Tony glanced around, having to jog to keep up with Rhodey’s long stride, “where are we going?”

Rhodey cast an apologetic look his way before stopping at a gargoyle. He pushed Tony in front of it.

”You need to sort this out sooner or later. _Phoenix_.”

The gargoyle leaped out the way. Rhodey shoved Tony forward, the gargoyle trapping him in.

”Rhodey, I can’t do this,” Tony yelled past the gargoyle, “Rhodey,” he called desperately.

He’d been putting this off since the disowning. Trust Rhodey to make him face it.

 

He knocked on the door politely, awaiting a response before opening the door. He came face to face with Head Mistress Grey, who smiled at him.

”Mister Rhodes told me to expect you. He informed me there was a personal matter you needed to discuss.”

Tony nodded mutely, stumbling his way into the room as Mistress Grey swept behind her desk. He looked around the room, trying to find the words. Nothing but books and a silent Fwooper snoozing on its perch.

”Well, Mister Stark, how may I assist?”

Tony coughed, clearing his throat. It felt like it was closing up, “before Christmas I received a letter from my father,” his voice was monotone, like he was reading from a script. There wasn’t any other way he could say this. “He’s made the decision to disown me. I have no parental guardians, and no where to stay over summer. I was hoping… that you’d let me stay for the summer.”

Mistress Grey shook her head sadly, “I’m so sorry Tony, I’m afraid we aren’t permitted to let any students stay here over the summer, no matter the circumstances. I shall alert the Ministry and see if they can locate a foster family for the summer.”

It was the answer he knew he’d get. He’d just been hoping to find an alternative. A foster family. Great, such a great idea putting your trust in strangers. Tony supposed he could run away if things got bad, spend the summer hiking back to Hogwarts.

”Okay. Thank you for your time.”

”If you manage to set up another arrangement, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

”You’ll be the first.”

And he meant that. Like hell would he stay with a foster family. He bowed slightly and walked out of the room, trying to think of other options. He was fast running out of money. His Gringotts account was drying up, dearest dad having cut him off, so a hotel or inn was out. He couldn’t stay with Pepper or Rhodey. Both their families hated pure-bloods with a passion. Tony was actually surprised that they turned out to be such accepting people. Natasha always stayed with Clint, so she was out, as was Clint. From the sounds of it, his house would be too full anyway. He didn’t really know Phil well enough. And he really didn’t think Steve or Bucky would want him there cramping their style. He’d done that enough over Christmas. Maybe a foster family was best. Tony sighed as he walked out, Rhodey waiting for him.

”Any luck?”

”Nah, she said what I thought she’d say. Joy of joys, I might get a foster family.”

”The moment I get a job, a place to stay, you can stay with me,” Rhodey offered.

They both knew it wouldn’t happen in time but Tony was grateful for the offer. Rhodey always seemed to know what he needed. Even if there were times it wasn’t what he wanted.

”Where’s everyone else?” Tony asked, trying to pretend the meeting with Mistress Grey hadn’t happened.

”They wandered into Hogsmeade, wanna go?”

Tony shook his head, staring at his shoes, “nah, I got stuff to do. You go on without me.”

 

The Hogs Head. God knows how they ended up in here, but alas, it was where they were staying. The bartender, a grouchy twenty-something woman was wiping a greasy counter with an even greasier cloth. The inn was sparsely populated. There was only a short man leering at the bartender, and the gang.

”So, anyone want to go to the Three Broomsticks?” Clint asked, moving to get up.

No one else moved with him so he sat back down with a look of disgust at his surroundings.

”Are you all just stuck to the benches? Is it the grease?”

Bucky laughed as Natasha batted Clint around the head.

”I can buy fire whiskey here,” she said with a chatoyant grin, “please stay with me.”

She batted her eyelashes and Clint was putty for her.

”So why _are_ we meeting here?” Clint asked.

Natasha claimed a shot of fire whiskey, downing it in one. Steve tried to imitate her, coughing loudly after half a shot. Bucky nipped up to the bar to get him some water, everyone else laughing their asses off.

”I need to speak to you all about Tony,” Pepper stated, tone sharp and face of stone.

Everyone fell silent. An tense hush sweeping over them.

”What about?”

”Well, after the incident I believe he will be feeling like he lacks control in his life. It’s been building up to this since his father disowned him.”

If Pepper thought it was quiet before, it was nothing compared to now. The only thing that broke it was the sound of glass shattering. All eyes shot to Bucky. He was standing near their table, just within earshot.

”Hasn’t he told any of you?” Pepper asked curiously, only answered by stunned silence, “shit. I shouldn’t have said that.”

”Say that again.”

Once more, all eyes jumped to Bucky, shaking with rage.

”Say what you said again. I want to make sure I heard you correctly,” he demanded, tone worrying everyone.

Steve stood and slid a hand down Bucky’s arm, trying to hold his hand, trying to get into Bucky’s eye line. Trying to make him see Steve.

”What’s wrong?”

Bucky clenched his jaw, hands balling into fists at his side. He was wound tighter than any of them had ever seen a Hufflepuff, let alone Bucky, get.

”This isn’t news to me,” Bucky bit out, looking ready to bite them if they spoke, “he told me on Christmas day. I thought I dreamt it, dreamt all of it. I thought I was going crazy or like some weird seer about one very specific person. But I wasn’t. It was all _fucking_ real! I swear to God, I’m going to find that son of a bitch and-”

Bucky stalked out of the bar, Steve chasing him down.

 

Tony had come to resent looking like her. Like Laura or Antonia, or whatever he decided to call her. It was still him inside but it was like he had no control over her. She had a life of her own, her own persona. Tony waited nervously for Lance, wearing his facade named Antonia, down by the lake where they’d agreed to meet. Lance came strolling up, not a care in the world, kissing her cheek like it was the most natural thing for him.

”Lance, we need to talk.”

”Sounds serious, are you breaking up with me?” Lance laughed.

Silence. Silence wrapped in a blanket of snow. The silence between them put the frozen lake to shame.

”Oh,” he said, the sound lost, “why?”

”Because I don’t love you, and you don’t love me. I knew that when we got together but I guess I hoped something would change. You still love Bobbi and she still loves you. I don’t want to be the reason you two stay apart.”

”You aren’t!” Lance protested, “she doesn’t love me, she dumped me-”

”But not for the reason you think. Please, trust me on this and talk to her.”

”No, tell me why you think she still loves me!”

”Because she would do anything to make you happy, even if it turned her into a bad person. Lance,” Tony said softly, stroking a gloved hand down Lance’s arm, “trust me. She loves you. She thought this would be easier on you, for when the time came. But I don’t think it is. Please, just speak to her for me. Tell her that my fairy tale wasn’t meant to come true, but hers still could. Please.”

”Why should I?”

”You don’t have to. I owe you a choice. And I have done nothing to warrant you putting your trust in me. But you still love her.”

Lance nodded dejectedly, “I tried not to.”

”I know. And thank you. I know how exhausting it is to ignore your feelings. So please don’t. Please speak to her. One of us deserves to be happy,” Tony smiled forlornly, adding under breath, “and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

Lance nodded and turned away, looking as if he was going to walk away. But he turned and kissed her firmly.

”Thank you,” he whispered against her lips.

She smiled and waved him goodbye as he marched up the snow covered lawns. There was purpose in his stride so Tony took that as a win. Becoming himself again, Tony climbed into the branches of a thick oak tree, watching the snow drift around him in his own private world.

 

“Bucky, what the hell?”

Bucky spun around, snarl in place, “he obliviated me. Badly, as it happens.”

”But what do you mean, you already knew?”

”I thought I dreamt it, all of it. I thought it was just my subconscious being a hopeful little bitch. I knew he was a metamorphagi. I remembered speaking to him the morning after but he said we didn’t. He was drunk off his ass on fire whiskey, fuck knows how he got any. He’s got no one Steve. He’s got no one. No mum, no dad. He told me he loved me. He told me he loved you too. And he took that from me- took that from _us _!__  He took that from us, because he thinks he’s alone in how he feels.”

Steve pulled Bucky to his chest, letting Bucky scream his anger, mourn for everything that could have been if Tony hadn’t taken this one moment from him. Bucky’s hands were pressed to Steve’s chest, clasping at the fabric over Steve’s heart. Finally, after a solid twenty minutes stood shin deep in snow with flakes swirling down around them, Bucky pulled away.

”Aren’t you mad at him?”

Steve shook his head, “yes, more than a little. But I understand why he did it. He knew we both loved each other, and he had no way of knowing if we’d be interested in him-”

”Me saying ‘I love you’ should have been a big enough hint for the genius.”

Steve smiled sadly, “well, Pepper does always say he’s an idiot. Maybe he thought you were pitying him.”

Bucky grit his teeth, slipping his hands into Steve’s, “It wasn’t pity. And Pepper’s right. He’s an idiot. But he’s our idiot, and it’s time he knew that.”

 

It got too cold for him, hiding up a tree. He was certain his lips would turn blue if he didn’t go inside now. So he stayed five more minutes, self imposed torture for his actions. Eventually, Tony walked into the Great Hall, just after Lunch. Lance was sat with Bobbi, both looking hurt but they were talking. Bobbi looked ashamed. Lance was crying. But then they kissed and that was something. It was promising. Tony sat down and instantly felt something hit his back. Ah, the return of the bullies. He almost forgot about them. Trust people to hit him when he was already down. He wiped off the BBQ sauce left from the chicken leg, looking around for the guilty assailant. Didn’t take him long. Only one direction it could have come from. Damn Slytherins. Killian was grinning smugly, taking a large bite out of a BBQ chicken leg. Tony smiled at him, knowing it would aggravate him more. This time, when something hit him, it was much larger, with a sharp edge. Tony bit back a yelp, hearing metal clang on the stone floor. A bowl. The bastards had launched a bowl at him. Tony stooped to grab the bowl, frisbeeing it back to Killian.

”Think you dropped this,” Tony said snidely, “asshole,” he walked out the hall, hands thrust into his pockets, fingers clenched around his wand.

Another day, another meal missed. What a shame. He was used to the gnawing pain, it really didn’t bother him. Footsteps followed him.

”Hello boys,” Tony greeted, not bothering to turn around.

Make them expend the effort of circling him. Always six of them.

”Stark,” Rumlow cracked his knuckles.

It was supposed to be threatening, but it sounded like it hurt. Tony tutted in mock sympathy. Then he made a bad choice. If there was only one thing he was good at, it was definitely making bad choices. He shoved past the group, aiming to head outside. They followed.

”Do you have nothing better to do?” Tony’s voice was bored.

This was done over and over again. He wanted a new narrative. Instead it was like a record that kept skipping, playing the same three moments over and over. Bullying, pining, bad life decisions. Keep playing until the record breaks.

”What’s better than teaching a mangy little pure-blood its place?”

Tony kept walking, picking up the pace. They were right on his heels, laughing, jeering, taunting. He tuned out the words and carried on.

” _Everte Statum _.”__ _ _  
__

He didn’t have time to react. The spell tossed him bodily throw the air, landing in a snow drift and tumbling out of sight for a moment. Tony leaned back, head on the snow. For fucks sake, couldn’t they fuck off? But no, it seemed they were unable to. But Tony couldn’t stop running his mouth, even as Killian pulled him up by his collar.

”Now I know your _obsessed_ with me,” his mouth curled in glee, he loved taunting them in whatever small way he could. He could never fight six of them at once, “but c’mon. Aren’t you all a little too… what’s the word? Stupid, to think you’ll get away with this.”

”We’ve been getting away with it for five and a half years.”

”Awww, have you been keeping track of our anniversary? How sweet.”

That got him a hard punch across the jaw. His vision spotted over for a moment. Just a moment. Then he saw all the sneering faces gathered around him. 

”But you might actually get caught this time,” Tony postulated, “this is the first time you’re doing this in broad daylight.”

”It’ll be six accounts versus one. Who do you think the teachers will believe? No one likes you, no one trusts a pure-blood. I bet your _friends_ ,” they ridiculed the word, a joke of a concept in their eyes, “don’t even like you. I bet they’re using you.”

Tony swallowed hard. They were just playing with his doubts, that was it. It was just words. Just words that seemed to be cutting deep into him.

”Like Captain Rogers, he laughs about you over breakfast. You’re nothing more than a servant to help him with his homework. And that Barnes kid, he only puts up with you because the Captain does. They’re just using you and you’re too desperate to notice.”

Tony wanted them to go back to hitting him. He really did. He covered his ears but hands ripped his away.

”I think you need to hear this. And Natasha, she’s got a hundred different plans to kill you. She tells us all about them at dinner. She’s just waiting for you to stop being useful. Barton, well he hates you as much as we do. Why do you think he revealed your blood-status? Do you really think it was an accident?”

Tony stood up and shoved the closest one away, “shut the fuck up! You think you know everything but you don’t know shit!” Tony growled at them.

”Aww, the kitten’s found his claws,” Hammer taunted, “maybe we should get the kitty stuck up a tree.”

He was blasted backwards again, this time slamming into a tree trunk. And that was the end of it. They all walked off laughing. Tony stood shakily, a hand on the trunk to hold himself up. All in all, this was by far the lightest they’d ever let him off. A few bruises, that was it. Tony began to head back to the castle. Only for something to whip him in the stomach, sending him crashing back into the tree trunk. His head slammed back, bouncing off the bark.

”Fuck,” he moaned, trying to get back on his feet.

The world seemed to sway. Ah shit. Probably a concussion. Killian and co knew what they were doing. Attack in broad daylight but get an evil tree to do most of the work. Fucking perfect. He walked forward, trying to get out the tree’s reach, but a branch wrapped around him, swinging him into the air before slamming him into the ground. Pain shot through Tony’s chest, a pain he was unfortunately familiar with. And his ribs were cracked. He was struggling to take stock of things. He lay still, the cold snow numbing the pain. Maybe the tree would just think he’s dead. He lay for, fuck he didn’t even know how long. He lay until his shivering stopped and that was concerning enough. He tried to move again but the tree wrapped around his ankles, binding them together. Fucking tree. His wand, he needed his wand. He groped through his pockets. Shit. It had fallen out. He looked across the snow, seeing the dark wood of his wand lying a foot out of reach. He crawled forward slowly, hoping not to anger a fucking tree. The tips of his fingers just brushed the wand. A little further. He managed to get a grasp, flicking his wand and severing the branch holding him down. Then he was on his feet, running faster than he ever thought he could. He made it as far as the stone steps before the world began to slide away from him. Falling. That’s what was happening. He was on the ground, half covered in snow. He really needed to get inside. He dragged himself along the floor, managing to get inside. He wanted some place warm. And he was hungry.

 

The kitchens. He was hiding in the kitchens in broad daylight. The house elves were doting and concerned for his state. But he asked them not to get anyone and so they didn’t. He didn’t want people to see him like this. He was so sick of people seeing him in various states. A warm mug was pressed into his hand. It smelt sweet and familiar.

”Hot chocolate,” a house elf squeaked, “may I get you anything else?”

”Baked apple,” Tony murmured, “with burnt sugar.”

The house elf hastened to oblige. And ten minutes later it was in a bowl in front of him. He nodded his thanks. He didn’t eat or drink either, but the smell somehow helped. He didn’t know why. Just that they reminded him of something. Warmth. Warmth that soaked into him. He was so tired.

”Sir, are you sure you don’t want us to get anyone for you?”

Tony nodded, then shook his head. Urgh he regretted doing that, the room swimming in front of him, colours blurring.

”When I’m usually here there’s a Gryffindor guy with me. Can you get him?”

Rhodey. He’ll help. He always did.


	16. Centaur Insight

#  ****Chapter Sixteen - Centaur Insight** **

Tony blinked. He didn’t remember coming down here. He also didn’t remember it getting this dark. One moment he was in the kitchens and the next he was standing at the edge of the forest. And he hadn’t meant to be either of these places. Had he? Maybe he had come to see Harrison. That must be it. Tony trotted through the forest, mindful of every step as he limped over tree roots and bushes. He really didn’t want to pass out again. Trees were used like crutches, branches as braces. The ground was cold but not a dusting of snow had settled. The canopy was too thick to allow anything from the sky to reach it. Tony lit his wand and kept walking. He just wanted to find Harrison and pass out on the back seat.

 

“Where is he?” Steve asked, voice anguished and hands trembling.

”We don’t know,” the house elves squeaked, “he ask us to get you and then he left. We couldn’t stop him.”

Bucky cursed under his breath.

”Was he okay?” Steve continued interrogating the house elves for all they knew.

They gave up all information willingly.

”He wasn’t focused. He kept muttering under his breath about a tree. An angry tree. Then he left, saying something about a bathroom. We tried to stop him.”

Steve nodded, dragging Bucky from the room, yelling a garbled thanks over his shoulder at the house elves. They ran up to Myrtle’s bathroom, barging through the door.

”Do you know where he’s gone?” They babbled.

Myrtle looked them over coolly, “and if I did, why should I tell you?”

”Because-” Steve began.

”Because we fucking love him, and we’re all idiots.”

Myrtle gave him a look that said ‘fair enough’ before drifting down to their eye level.

”He came in here babbling about horses, and someone called Harrison. Then he went to head outside. He wasn’t making much sense.”

”Why didn’t you stop him?”

Myrtle arched an eye brow, unimpressed, “How about I try stopping you leave and you see how effective that is?”

Steve blushed, scuffing his foot back and forth.

”We don’t have time for this, we’ve wasted too much already,” Bucky snarled, marching out the door.

Steve thanked Myrtle and chased after him.

 

Tony didn’t recognise this part of the forest. He had ended up on the edge of a small brook, the water babbling merrily. It seemed like the only part of the forest where the branches parted enough to let him see the sky. It was dark. Tony stared at the sky. When did that happen? He could have sworn it was only three o’clock. A wave of dizziness overtook him, forcing him to his knees. He breathed deeply, willing it to pass quickly. Maybe the forest wasn’t his brightest idea. He was honestly starting to wonder why the hell he’d been put in Ravenclaw.

”We told you not to come to our side of the forest, human-foal.”

Chiron was standing on the opposite side of the brook, looking completely calm. Tony couldn’t manage more than a nod, the world tilting off its axis. 

”You’re injured.”

A statement. Nothing more. There was no caring to his voice, only pure fact. Tony nodded again, fingers digging into the dirt, hoping to ground himself in something stable.

”I came to warn you.”

Tony lifted his head enough to meet Chiron’s eyes. They were as cold and grey as his demeanor.

”A black moon hides in the sky.”

Tony nodded, not understanding.

”And Mercury is dulling.”

This all meant nothing to him, but he was hardly going to tell the centaur this. He knew they set a lot into their divination of the sky. He was certain that what the centaur said would come true, even if he didn’t know what it meant.

”Proceed with caution tonight.”

The centaur turned and flicked his tail out before he cantered into the darkness. It swallowed him like he’d never been there to begin with. Tony wondered if he’d actually hallucinated the centaur. There was no reason Chiron should warn him of anything, even if the warning made no sense. Probably the concussion, making all this up. He stood up and blacked out.

 

“You really think he’s in there?” Bucky asked nervously, staring into the forest’s depths.

”I think he might be,” Steve was stood next to him, clasping Bucky’s hand, “maybe he named his pet acromantula Harrison,” Steve teased.

Steve powered on ahead, walking beyond the treeline. Bucky watched for a moment until Steve turned back to him.

”You’re coming right?”

Bucky nodded, moving slowly. No way in hell was he losing Steve today too. He ran to catch up, clasping tightly at Steve’s hand. He hated the damn forest. It felt like it was where Hansel and Gretel got lost, and where a witch had a house of sweets. Where wolves lived to eat girls in red hoods. They trekked through, Steve leading the way as if he knew where to go. For an hour they wandered around the forest.

”Steve,” Bucky murmured uncertainly, “I think we’re being watched.”

Steve dismissed him, still trying to find Tony. But it was okay for Steve. Steve was a Gryffindor. But Bucky, he was a Hufflepuff. Daring adventures were certainly not on his list of things to do before he died. And he was becoming more certain that the day of his death was approaching quickly. Footsteps kept sounding near them. Steve never heard but Bucky did. Bucky could never move quick enough to see who it was, but it seemed like an army was hidden in the shadows. He wasn’t brave. He knew that. But like hell would he leave Steve to face whoever was waiting for them in the darkness alone.

 

Tony stood up on shaky legs. Grateful. Grateful he woke up. Grateful that Harrison was bumping into him again and again. A hand on the bonnet stopped the movement, Harrison holding completely still as Tony found his footing. The world seemed to shake and move with every step, like an earthquake was happening in Tony’s head. He sagged against the car, hands clinging to the roof to keep him upright. The car made a noise that seemed to sound concerned, its doors flapping open in apparent agitation. Tony patted the car, stroking along the roof.

”Can I get inside?” he asked.

In response the car held the door open for the back seat. Tony climbed in, crawling along the seat. He curled up and the world faded to pin pricks. Still conscious but barely. The back of his head hurt. It felt like pressure was building and building in his skull and the only outlet was at the nape of his neck. His ribs hurt. He hadn’t realised how badly he was struggling to breathe until he lay down. Then it felt like a giant had stomped on his chest. Maybe his ribs weren’t cracked. They seemed to shift with his movement. Broken. He should try and fix them. But he was having enough trouble staying awake. His ankles hurt, and he was pretty sure they were swollen. Sprained maybe. He didn’t need to pull up his shirt to see the bruises around his chest and stomach. Probably had a large one on his back too. He focused on breathing until he could see the car’s interior. There was a bloody hand print on one of the seats. And blood on his hands. And under his head. Okay, fine. He’d clean Harrison again tomorrow. For now, he just wanted warmth and sleep.

”Harrison, can you blast the heat?”

The heating rattled. Tony curled up under his cloak, ignoring the fire it set in his chest. The car began to drive slowly, the rocking motion serving as a lullaby for Tony to sleep to.

 

The forest was rumbling. Steve and Bucky were sure of that much. It echoed through the trees. It was coming from behind them. Steve turned just in time to shove Bucky out the way and stumble over. A car shot past them, before stopping with a squeal of breaks. A head popped up from the back seat.

”Tony,” Steve breathed.

They ran up to the car as Tony climbed out, all loose limbs and subdued movement. He was frowning, berating the car.

”C’mon Harrison, you always wake me up!”

The car let out a trickle of steam from the engine.

”Don’t give me that, I probably could have woken up. I’m not that bad.”

Steve and Bucky smirked fondly, until Bucky’s anger came back to him.

”What the FUCK, Stark?”

Tony flinched, pressing himself back against the car, searching wildly for the noise. His eyes eventually settled on them, widening before he closed them.

”Definitely hallucinating,” he said to himself, his fingers tapping the side of the car.

Steve and Bucky strode up to him, force in Bucky’s steps. Tony opened his eyes, looking shocked they were still there.

”What are-”

Tony was having trouble stringing words together.

”How _dare_ you?” Bucky snarled, “How dare you steal that night from me!”

Tony blinked owlishly.

”Don’t give me that innocent look, you know what you did.”

Tony shook his head, swallowing at the motion. He felt nauseous but something told him vomiting would earn him little sympathy right now. Not that he was after sympathy. Or anything more than an explanation as to what the hell Bucky meant.

”Can you-” Tony swallowed hard, trying to fight the wave of nausea that swept over him. It was like the rising tide. It wasn’t at his feet yet but it would be soon, “what night?” Tony managed to stumble over.

”Don’t play dumb, fucking Christmas Night.”

Tony squinted up at Bucky. He really wished Bucky would hold still. Or that Tony could hold himself still. He really didn’t know which was correct. He pressed himself against the car, hoping it would hold him up. Steve was moving, giving a low whistle as he admired the car’s engine, letting Bucky and Tony sort it out.

”I don’t know,” he swallowed again, he needed this over with, “I,” he closed his eyes, “I was really drunk that night. I don’t remember it.”

”Bullshit!” Bucky shouted.

His fists were clenched at his sides, and he looked ready to swing. And Tony really didn’t need another hit right now. Not that Bucky would hit him. Tony gave himself a mental shake. They wouldn’t hurt him, certainly not like that. Never on purpose. Not since they became friends.

”You took so much from me. So much from _us _,__ ” his voice was breaking, face crumbling as he tried to hold back tears. Anger was easier to deal with than sadness, “you can’t pretend none of it happened.”

”I’m not,” Tony pleaded, “I really don’t remember. I’m not lying Bucky, just- just explain what I did, because I don’t _know_.”

He needed Bucky to understand that he didn’t know what he did. He also really needed to sit down. Or vomit. It was probably the latter. But something must have shown in his face. Something in Bucky softened.

”You _really_ don’t remember, do you?”

Tony shook his head, immediately wishing he hadn’t. His hand shot to the car’s handle, steadying himself as the world went dark for a moment. Bucky caught the action, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Tony’s hand.

”You aren’t thinking of running away, are you?”

”No,” Tony answered, closing his eyes, breathing stiffly through his nose.

Every breath was agony and he just really wanted to climb back in the car. But Bucky was in his space and Tony could hear him breathing heavily.

”You told me you loved me that night, and that you loved Steve too. I told you I loved you as well. You didn’t believe me.”

When he opened his eyes again, Bucky had a hand on his cheek and it felt like he was staring into Tony’s soul.

”Bucky-” Something in Steve’s tone suggested warning. Or worry. Tony couldn’t quite tell right now.

Neither of them heard it. Tony’s head was swimming, everything sounded like it was being garbled underwater. But a hand on his cheek was a buoy, trying to keep him above water, and he could feel Steve moving around the car. Bucky’s head was full of regret, still anger held at his own stupidity and at Tony’s and just anger that fate took this from them for so long.

”How dare you think we don’t love you,” Bucky growled, pressing his lips to Tony’s.

The words didn’t make sense. Not right now. Tony filed them away under ‘to be reviewed later’ and sunk into the sensation of Bucky. Warm hands were holding him up and warm lips were on his and he’d give anything if he had anything to give to make this real. To make this something more than a concussion dream.

”Bucky-”

Tony couldn’t hear them. He was sagging into Bucky’s hold, the ground seemed to be dropping under his feet.

”Bucky, shit he’s injured, Look!”

Bucky looked over Tony’s shoulder into the back seat of the car. It looked like a murder scene, like it belonged on CSI. Bucky examined Tony, finding his hands scarlet.

”He’s bleeding, I don’t know from where, but that’s his blood,” Bucky yelled.

Tony winced away from him, but his body was becoming lax. His energy was all used up now. Steve opened and slammed the door to the back seats, dragging a tattered messenger bag out.

”He better have a bottle of that stuff,” Steve growled, searching through the pockets.

Bucky urgently lowered Tony to the floor, sitting him upright against the car. Frantic hands ran down him, trying to find where the blood was coming from. Tony coughed wetly, blood staining the corner of his mouth. Steve quickly handed him a bottle of blood red syrup, breaking the wax seal as he pulled the cork out. Bucky poured some into Tony’s mouth, stroking Tony’s throat to encourage him to swallow. Only when he felt Tony swallow the potion did he go back to trying to find where the blood was coming from. Steve tilted Tony’s head forward, looking at the red dripping down the car door.

”Back of the head,” he explained, tipping some more of the potion into his hand.

Steve began to rub the potion along Tony’s nape and up into his hair. Tony shuddered, moaning. Bucky shushed him softly, pulling Tony’s head against his shoulder. Steve brushed through his hair, Tony screaming as Steve pulled against the injury. Tony bit down to muffle his screams, Bucky unflinching as Tony bit into his shoulder. He just kept up a steady stream of meaningless comfort words. No blood drawn from his skin but there’d be a hell of a bruise. For a second, just a moment, it sounded like something cracked back into place. Suddenly Tony was breathing easier, entire weight supported by Bucky and Steve. His eyes closed for a moment, trying to pull himself upright, stubborn in his independence. He thanked them, eyes still not ready to focus on anything. He stood, stumbling to the car. He shook his head mumbling about something that the two couldn’t hear.

”Don’t go,” Steve begged, offering a hand to Tony.

Tony looked confused, squinting at the hand as if it held all of life’s mysteries. But he took it, with his own pale shaking hand. He let Steve pull him onto his lap and he let Bucky stroke through his hair and he let himself feel safe. His brain was nothing except mist and fog, but they were the sunlight to drive it away. He was safe with them and he was warm with them.

 

Tony woke up, wrapped in cloaks like a burrito. None of the cloaks were his, one trimmed in yellow, the other in red. He had a splitting headache. He opened his eyes to the dark forest.

”What happened?” he asked to no one in particular, thinking there was no one to answer him.

But people were there, curled around him. They reminded Tony of dogs, protecting a lost kitten. Steve was a golden retriever, Bucky was a border collie. Wait, wouldn’t that make Tony the lost kitten? He blinked at them. They stared right back, holding their breath as though they waited for him to say anything. Tony frowned at Bucky, trying to patch his memories together. If they were here, does that mean his hallucinations weren’t hallucinations.

”Did we-”

He didn’t finish the sentence, not wanting to. Steve was right next to him, he didn’t want to ask if he’d accidentally frenched Steve’s boyfriend while clinging to the strings of consciousness. Or that he’d dreamed he’d kissed Steve’s boyfriend. He didn’t know which would be worse, the act or the desire. But Bucky was smiling at him.

”We did,” he murmured, leaning in to capture Tony’s lips in something chaste that lit fireworks behind his eyes.

But Tony pulled back. Still with a frown on his face. His eyebrows knitted together as he twisted to face Steve.

”Are you okay with this?” he asked.

”No,” Steve said heatedly, “why should Bucky get to be the only one?”

And then Tony was in Steve’s arms, and their lips were together and Tony was just really confused. Enjoying every second but really confused. Eventually he pulled away.

”Did I die? Is that what this is?”

He didn’t get this at all. They were interested in him. Both of them. And that was okay? That didn’t seem right. Why now? Why so suddenly? This had to be Heaven. Although he was surprised he’d made it through the pearly gates. St Peter had done a shit job as bouncer.

”You aren’t dead, though you gave it your best damn shot,” Bucky growled, hugging Tony protectively to his chest.

Tony toyed with the toggles of Bucky’s robes. Pull and release, pull and release. The wooden toggle bounced up and down. He didn’t know what happened. Had he lost another day?

”What’s the last thing you remember?” Steve asked gently, a hand on Tony’s knee in… comfort, Tony guessed.

”I was at lunch and - who was it - someone threw a bowl at me. I left but they followed and…”

He couldn’t remember much after that.

”The house elves said you mentioned an angry tree,” Steve offered, hoping Tony could place that.

Tony nodded, “yeah, they blasted me into this tree’s trunk. And the tree didn’t like that, not one bit,” Tony punctuated the thought with a shake of his head, before frowning, “I think a tree beat me up.”

Steve’s mouth fell open, Bucky’s eyes widened.

”They threw you at the fucking WHOMPING WILLOW?!”

Tony nodded vaguely. He wasn’t certain it was definitely that tree but their guess was as good as his. What other trees were capable of beating someone up? They were probably right, their heads were clearer than his.

”I’m going to kill them,” Steve’s voice was fierce and it should have been frightening but there was something else in that voice. Something that didn’t scare him. Something Tony couldn’t label but it just made him think of apples. Maybe he still had concussion?

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Bucky and Steve on Tony’s sides. He was surrounded by two people bigger than him, who weren’t level sevens and for the first time, he wasn’t bothered. Tony frowned for a moment. Something in that thought wasn’t right. They were level sevens, had been for a while. Tony couldn’t think of when they became his chosen people but they were his friends, chosen family.

”I cleaned the car,” Steve said, in lieu of anything else left to say, “it looked like… there was a lot of blood.”

”Why?”

”Why was there a lot of blood?” Steve asked, looking a little confused. Surely Tony already knew the answer to that.

Tony shook his head carefully, so as to not make himself dizzier, ”No, why did you clean it?”

”You seem to like the car. You were yelling at it earlier.”

”Did you name it?”

Tony nodded vaguely, “Harrison, this is Steve and Bucky. Steve and Bucky, this is Harrison.”

Bucky’s face twisted, trying not to laugh. He succeeded. Steve, on the other hand, did not.

”You named your car Harrison Ford.”

”Why is that funny?” Tony asked, head weaving a little.

”You named your car after Hans Solo,” Bucky explained.

Tony looked confused and gave them a shrug.

”Not Hans Solo? Indiana Jones then?”

”I don’t even know what that is.”

Steve and Bucky stared at him in shock, “Why did you pick that name?”

”I like it,” Tony smiled at the car, who honked loudly in appreciation.

”Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

”I don’t know what that is either.”

”Right, next time you come round mine, we are marathoning all of it.”

Tony smiled. Steve said next time he was round Steve’s. He was allowed a next time. Bucky stood, offering his hand to Tony. Tony clasped it, stumbling as he stood. His legs were cold and numb, and he couldn’t feel parts of his body. His chest seemed like it was frozen. Yeah he could breathe but he couldn’t feel anything.

”Am I okay?” he asked Bucky and Steve, as he prodded about his ribs.

They didn’t hurt, but he couldn’t feel anything there either.

”You weren’t. You had a head wound and we think you had cracked ribs. We gave you some of that healing potion you invented.”

Tony nodded. That made sense. It was one of the bugs he’d been trying to get rid of. The feeling of numbness as things fixed themselves. That also explained the headache. Steve stood behind him, hands running up and down Tony’s arms. He leaned round and kissed Tony on the cheek, Bucky mirroring.

”Saps,” Tony muttered.

Though it made his heart melt a little. Made him tingle all over and his cheeks heat.

”Do you want to get in the car?” Bucky offered, seeing Steve keeping hold of Tony to stop him swaying on his feet.

Tony nodded. He still felt dizzy but hell it would take a while for the potion to work its magic so whatever. He sat down, ending up in the middle as Bucky and Steve slid in on either side. Maybe there was space for him at their sides.

 

They sat in the car for hours maybe. Harrison was keeping them toasty, just the right temperature for the cool February night. There wasn’t much talking. But there was other stuff. Not __that__ , Tony wasn’t ready for _that_. But other fun stuff. Steve kissing him softly as Bucky made sure to leave a mark on Tony’s neck.

”Payback,” he grinned against Tony’s skin, “for biting me earlier.”

Tony moaned, writhing in his seat. Bucky seemed to decide to make up for lost time, picking a new spot on his neck.

”And this,” he bit lightly, scraping his teeth over Tony’s pulse.   
Tony jolted in his seat, hands searching out something to cling to. He found Steve’s hands but that didn’t ground him. If anything it sent him higher. Steve was kissing the palm of his left hand, tangling his fingers with Tony’s right.

”This is so you know we love you,” Bucky stopped for a moment to meet Tony’s eyes. They were dark with desire, but there was something else, something stirring, “and so you know and everyone knows that you are _ours_.”

Tony blinked. Tony had always been theirs. He couldn’t not be. And hell knows he tried. __Oh__. He __had__ tried. And Bucky didn’t seem to like that.

”I’m yours,” he whispered in Bucky’s ear, sweeping a strand of dark hair away, “I always have been. I’m yours for however long you want me.”

Bucky growled low, flipping Tony to face Steve, “Forever then. Tell him,” Bucky moaned in his ear, “tell him what you want us to do to you.”

Tony crawled across the seat, hands clasping Steve’s thighs. Steve gasped, a tiny intake of breath. Tony’s mind shot back to a study session, when Tony’s touch had warranted the same reaction. Only now Tony could identify it for what it was. Attraction. Desire. Lust. He could see the want in Steve’s eyes. Tony kissed him deeply, lips parting to let Steve kiss him back. He could feel hungry eyes on him, and that only egged him on, pushing Steve back against the seat. He pulled away, lips almost touching.

”I want you to own me,” and his voice was rough, he’d been waiting for this for so long, “I want you to take me and never give me back.”

 

Tony woke up in a tangle of limbs. How long had he been out? Although after the previous rather debauching act, Tony guessed that they all needed sleep. His head was resting on Steve’s chest and Bucky’s arm was wrapped around his waist, his nose pressed into Tony’s side. Steve was snoring lightly, head tilted back against the headrest. Tony couldn’t remember a time he felt so happy. This was real. This was real and it was his. He snuggled closer, re-positioning himself so he could listen to Steve’s heart beat. It was steady and rhythmic, Tony matching his breathing to it. Bucky stirred slightly, arm tightening around Tony. Tony ran a hand through Bucky’s hair, reveling in the fact he could. Bucky opened his eyes to look at him, smiling widely.

”What?” Tony asked.

The way Bucky was looking at him made him feel vulnerable, like he was laid out on a table, bare to the bones. Like Bucky could see everything he was thinking and was smiling at him anyway.

”Nothing,” Bucky smirked, tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

Tony flushed. Tony could remember everything that tongue had done to him, just hours ago. Bucky leaned up to kiss him, Tony certain he was bright red. Bucky was smiling at him dreamily, like there was no where he’d rather be than lying over Tony with Steve snoring next to them.

”We shouldn’t have done that,” Tony murmured.

Bucky’s face dropped, pulling away from Tony, “didn’t you want to?”

Tony shook his head, “I did, but the car. Poor Harrison.”

Bucky gave a look that said he thought Tony was talking nonsense. Tony was very used to this look; it came from every source he could think of.

”What do you mean?”

”Well the car, he’s going to remember this.”

”How?”

”Well, because the car is sentient. Duh,” Tony laughed like it was the most obvious thing.

”God, I love you,” Bucky whispered, like it was a secret between them for that moment.

Tony was certain he could be used to guide ships away from rocks, so red was his face. Bucky looked worried, hand coming up to caress Tony’s cheek. Tony ducked his gaze, fiddling with his hands.

”You know that right?” Bucky asked, tone suddenly uncertain, “we both love you. You know that.”

Steve’s arms wrapped around him, lips pressing kisses to his ear.

”We love each other, but we love you just as much.”

Tony nodded mutely. He didn’t really believe that. They’d loved each other for… probably years, it was just unrequited. Sort of. Unknown might be more accurate. There was no way they loved him as much. It wasn’t possible.

”Tony,” Steve kissed him on the cheek, trying to draw him out of his head.

”We should get back, I have essays I need to finish.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. Tony didn’t believe them. And he was pulling away.

”Yeah,” Bucky agreed, “maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me with potions if you’ve got a spare moment?”

Words came unbidden from somewhere in the depths of Tony’s mind. _They’re just using you and you’re too desperate to notice._  He remembered those words. How they felt like a punch in the gut. Tony blinked against the tears that sprung into his eyes. That couldn’t be true. Could it? But the first chance Barnes got, he was asking Tony for help with classwork. Tony looked at Rogers, only to see him agreeing with Barnes. Tony blinked again, clearing the sadness from his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by something far more potent. Rage. He climbed across Steve and out of the car. He just wanted to get away from them. And set something on fire.

”Tony, what’s wrong?”

His mind was burning, setting fire to the memories of them together. Tugging at his own hair just to stop him cursing Steve and Bucky out to the ends of the earth. All of it, all of it was just a way to keep him with them, so they could keep feeding off his help, off his work. And Hammer knew this. He knew. Did that mean… surely not. They wouldn’t… right? He spun on his heel, stalking back up to the pair of them, walking fury.

”Who put you up to this?” Tony pointed an accusing finger at Barnes.

Both the taller men backed up until they were pressed to the side of the car.

”Was it Fisk? Rumlow? How did they get to you?”

The men were too stunned to speak, opening their mouths but no words falling from their lips. Tony smiled in bitter triumph. Fuck, he knew there was a reason why he hesitated at making them level sevens. He knew right from the beginning that Steve was working an angle. He knew Bucky would have been in on it. He fucking knew. But still he fell for them. He was stupider than they were.

”I can only praise your commitment to the role. It’s been what, five months?” Tony clapped slowly, sarcastically, “Best actors I’ve ever seen. What did they promise you for this?” Tony demanded, with no answer forthcoming, “fine, was it a fucking joke?” Tony put on a sniveling, sneering voice, an imitation of Hammer, “Steven, James. I have a mission for you. Make Tony Stark love you, use him to your heart’s content. He’ll never know. And when you’re bored of him, feel free to cast him aside.”

Steve managed to find his words, “Tony, it isn’t like that at all.”

Tony snarled at him, face contorted in his pain and anger, “then what is it like? A bet to see which of you could get closest to taking my virginity? That’s fucking twisted. Too bad neither of you succeeded.”

”God Tony, no,” Steve looked offended by the suggestion.

”Then what sick game are you playing? What do you want with me?”

Steve didn’t get a chance to answer. The sound of pounding feet and yelling filled the forest. Tony paled, all colour draining from him.

”Get in the car,” he hissed, hand clutching his wand.

”Tony,” Bucky found his tongue, “what’s going on?”

”Get in the fucking car.”

”Not without an explanation.”

”If you actually think you fucking love me, you’ll get in the damn car,” he bit out, issuing the words like a challenge.

Steve nodded, pushing Bucky into the car. Tony walked up and Steve held a hand out, an offering for Tony, a hand to pull him into the car with them. Tony slammed the door in their faces. He patted the roof of the car.

”Get them out of here, Harrison. Quickly. Don’t let them out until they’re safe.”

The car zoomed off and Tony turned to face the herd.

 

Bucky was staring out the back window, watching as Tony shrunk into the distance. His eyes widened as he watched. Tony bowed deeply, surrounded by a hoard of Centaurs.

”Steve, we have to go back, we have to get him.”

Steve was clambering into the front seat, trying to control the steering wheel, “what do you think I’m trying to do!”

”The doors!”

And the moment Bucky said that, the locks clicked down. And he couldn’t pull them back up.

”Let us help him,” Bucky demanded, tears of frustration building up.

A car was holding them hostage. Of course it fucking was. Nothing with Tony was ever easy, was it?! The car carried them further and further away, veering every which way until neither Steve nor Bucky knew where they came from.

 

Tony bowed deeply, sliding his wand into his pocket. He wouldn’t need it, wouldn’t use it against them. He’d broken the rules. He’d brought others into the centaurs forest. Chiron stepped forward, the crowd parting for him.

”You knew the rules.”

”I did,” Tony agreed.

”You brought other humans into our forest.”

”It was not my intention for them to follow me.”

Several of the centaurs hissed angrily at him. The stomping fell in time, war drums at Tony’s trial.

”You were yelling at them, why?” Chiron asked, surveying Tony with mild interest.

”They hurt me.”

Chiron nodded, pacing around Tony. He only stopped once he made a complete circle.

”I tried to warn you,” the centaur shook his head sadly at the boy.

Whispers spread like the plague through the crowd. The centaurs didn’t like that he tried to warn Tony.

”I will make you a deal. If you hand over the two men who followed you, you may go free.”

”No.”

”No?” Chiron questioned, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

”I will accept the consequences, whatever they may be.”

”They hurt you and yet you protect them?”

”Yes,” Tony stood tall, he would not let himself be intimidated.

”And you understand what the consequences are.”

”I do.”

”Very well.”

Chiron nodded and the centaurs surrounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet the chapter I based this whole story around :P
> 
> And also sorry for the delay in posting, literally have no time anymore until Christmas break :'( have to get busy studying German. My aim is to post one more chapter for each unfinished story then take a break until xmas. Sorry to leave for so long :'''(


	17. Screams and Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-consensual kiss... but it's not really a kiss... like the equivalent of mouth-to-mouth

#  ****Chapter Seventeen - Screams and Silence** **

Tony limped out the forest. He had made it to the edge of the lake, trudging through the snow and slipping on ice. All in all, they could have been harder on him. Chiron had ordered two other centaurs to carry him off, do with him as they wanted. But the two centaurs he’d selected, a female palomino with her hair cascading in blonde waves, and a dappled grey male with black hair, and a hairy chest, didn’t seem to think he’d done anything wrong. They dragged him out, ruffled him up halfheartedly and left him in the snow. One of them had trod on his leg, and apologised. They even advised him to stay away from the forest for a few weeks, and that they wouldn’t harm the car in his absence. It really wasn’t what Tony was expecting. He was actually starting to think that Chiron had a soft spot for him. Tony stopped to look across the lake. It was frozen, a sheet of ice covering the surface. He walked until he saw the castle. It was dark, but there was no moon in the sky. Chiron had mentioned something about a black moon. He lit his wand, light casting glittering streaks off the ice. There were lights ahead, a group of people throwing rocks across the lake. Tony tried to walk past quickly but the group spotted him.

”Back for more?”

Killian threw an arm around Tony’s shoulders in a way that seemed friendly. Only Tony knew better. Killian dragged him to the edge of the lake, Tony unable to shake him off.

”Well, Well, Well,” Justin sneered, “Look who’s back.”

”I heard you the first time,” Tony sighed, “can’t you punch me and get it over with?”

”No,” Vanko answered.

Tony was expecting more words. He sighed.

”Seriously, haven’t you done enough?” Tony laughed a hollow laugh, “You’ve beaten me, don’t you get it? You have won. Using those two was genius, I’ll give you that. But I’m done, I’m out-”

Tony realised the group was looking around each other in confusion. Shit.

”You used Steve and Bucky to get to me, right?”

”Like we’d use the boy scout captain and his loyal lap dog,” Rumlow scoffed, aiming his wand between Tony’s eyes.

Tony blinked. There was a wand pointed at his face but he could barely think about that. He tried to focus. Tried to focus on the wand but Steve and Bucky kept jumping back at him. Steve and Bucky weren’t in on it. Hammer or Killian or any of them would rub it in his face. Hammer especially. He’d want Tony to know exactly how he orchestrated it, a grand Bond villain explaining his plan as 007 faced a deadly laser. He needed to prove he was smarter than Tony.

”Walk.”

Tony felt a prod in his back. He raised his hands in surrender, “where am I going?”

The wand flicked in the direction of the ice. Tony nodded. He stepped onto the ice, feet sliding across it. There had to be a way out of this. But Tony couldn’t think of a way to disarm six people at once. After five steps, he realised they wouldn’t follow him out onto the ice. But six wands were trained on him. One false move and he’d take half a dozen stunning spells to his chest.

”Further,” Grant Ward ordered, sparks spitting from his wand.

Tony kept walking. He was pretty far out now. What glimpses of the water Tony could get through the ice showed nothing but unchanging darkness.

”Stop there,” Fisk demanded, “And turn to face us.”

”Yeah,” Hammer laughed, “I wanna see the light leave your eyes.”

Tony froze. They… they weren’t messing around. They wanted him dead. He pulled out his wand and managed to land a solid hit on Grant. The guy toppled like a house of cards. Time stood still. Everyone was staring at Tony in shock. He fired another spell, Vanko sending it ricocheting behind him. Time began moving again and Tony could swear it sped up. He was blocking as many of the spells as he could, countering the others. A _Stupefy_ knocked the wind out of him, sending him sprawling across the ice on his back. He skidded several feet, feeling as much as hearing the ice crack around him. He cast _protego_ as he tried to find his feet. But by the time he found them, something broke through his shield charm.

” _SECTUMSEMPRA _.”__ _ _  
__

He didn’t feel it at first. It was too much to comprehend at once. It was like the tide pulling away. But the tsunami came rushing back in, sweeping over him. He collapsed to his knees. He could feel his flesh being peeled off him, blood pouring out like a macabre waterfall. It was spreading across the ice, freezing as it went. Frozen red streaks of blood. He couldn’t breathe and yet he was screaming. He was screaming and all he could hear was their laughter.

 

Three people heard screams that night. Two were at the edge of the forest, trying to run around a car that would not let them back into the tree line. Steve and Bucky shared a look at the sound, turning to run in that direction. They stopped when they saw a group of six - though technically five, with one slumped to the ground - corner a collapsed body out on the lake. The body wasn’t moving, lying on its side, hands pressed to its chest. They recognised the voices, every jeer and taunt. It was Tony’s group of bullies. That meant the body on the ice was-

”No,” Steve breathed, running forward, drawing his wand like a sword.

Bucky followed, hot on his trail as they raced down the lawns. They managed to fight two each, taking some of the attention off the man they loved. But not enough attention. Hammer still had his wand aimed at Tony.

” _Crucio _,__ ” he cast with determination.

Tony writhed on the ice, his body arching and curling, being pushed to its limits. And that was the third scream. Far away, deep in the Hufflepuff Dorms, Clint woke up with a start. He could hear screams. But it was more than that. He could hear Tony begging, pleading for them to kill him. For them to end this. For anyone to end this, to die, to make it stop anyway they could. Clint grabbed his wand, woke up Phil, and they ran, Clint calling for Natasha on the way.

” _Crucio _,”__ Justin spat, malice as strong as the ice was cold.

Tony shrieked in pain. Hot knives were slicing through him, tearing open the cuts, making sure every wound was bleeding. His heart was pounding in his ears, beating so fast it sounded like it was humming. He wanted to die. He wanted to die. He needed to die. He was going to die from this. Then it stopped. White noise filled his brain. Silence. That’s all that surrounded him. Static and Silence. He couldn’t see, try as he might. White sparks had filled his vision and he couldn’t blink them away. He could still hear his own heart, beating in his throat now as Tony gasped in a breath. 

” _Crucio_.”

Hammer was acting like the cat and Tony was the mouse. Toying with his food, tiring it out before he swallowed it whole. Tony couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. But he could feel his cells rip apart, sliced with scalpels as they tore him away from himself. He wished he was dead. Then the curse lifted. His body was twitching as though it had been electrocuted. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop this. They were going to kill him and he only wished they would do it faster. 

” _Imperio _,”__  Justin commanded.

And it was like the shutters came down in Tony’s mind. He was being tugged by invisible strings, their marionette. They were around his legs, his hands, his fingers. He couldn’t even make his mouth work, the strings controlling every part of him. _Stand up. Break the ice_  a voice told him. Tony frowned. Why would he break the ice? _Break the ice _.__  Tony waved his wand in a circle over the ice, it cracking away in front of his feet. The water was black, no light left in the night to permeate its depths. _Jump in_  the voice whispered, _Jump in and die._  He didn’t want to. But he had to. He obeyed. Tony stepped forward and sunk below the surface. Water surrounded him, covering his head. A stream of bubbles rose up as he sunk down. Sparks of light lit through the ice, in reds and greens and blues. But it was cold and dark where he was sinking, and soon it was black.

 

Clint was racing down the lawns, his partners in tow. Neither Natasha nor Phil knew what was happening, only that Clint was panicking and it was about Tony. Their questions were soon answered, the lawns lit up with curses and spells. Clint managed to blast a guy off his feet, not caring which of Hammer’s cronies he’d hit. With reinforcements, Steve looked for Tony. Only there was no Tony, only a crack in the ice and a lot of blood. Steve shed is cloak and skidded across the ice. He dived in, the cold seizing a tight grip around his heart. Casting a bubble head charm, he swam down and down. He used his wand to light the way and eventually managed to see Tony’s dark hair. But something swam past him, snapping its teeth. Grindylow. They were swimming around them, creating a whirlpool with the current. Steve quickly cast a bubble head charm on Tony.

” _Relashio _,”__  Steve yelled, the force of the jinx sending the creatures scuttling away.

Steve pulled Tony close, holding him by the waist as he swam upwards. This wouldn’t be fast enough. Steve aimed his wand straight at hole in the ice and cried _Ascendio_. Like a bullet from a gun they shot upwards. Steve slammed down heavily onto the ice, cradling Tony as he landed. Water dripped off them both and Tony wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing. Bucky ran to his side, dropping to his knees and pressing a hand to Tony’s chest.

”Heart’s still beating,” Bucky murmured, before aiming his wand at Tony’s throat, “ _Anapneo _.”__ _ _  
__

Tony coughed up water, retching onto Steve’s lap. But Steve didn’t care. He could deal with bile and water if Tony was breathing again. Bucky pulled his cloak over Tony and threw Steve’s around his shoulders. Steve’s teeth were chattering but Tony hadn’t given so much as a shiver. Tony needed treatment, he needed help, more than any of them here could provide. Steve slid his arms around Tony, pulling him up. They didn’t know what happened. What caused it. Maybe someone stepped too close, or maybe it was the spark that Fisk’s wand threw out as Phil crushed it underfoot, or maybe Steve shouldn’t have moved Tony just yet, but a shock wave blasted out across the lawns with Tony at the center. A white wave of tremendous force. Everyone was knocked off their feet, Steve and Bucky were pushed away from Tony. They could hear sobs, see him shake, could only watch as Tony cracked ice around him whenever anyone moved forward.

”Tony,” Bucky edged forward, moving slowly, “I know me and Steve aren’t your favourite people right now but we want to help you. Can I please come closer?”

He managed to get within touching distance without consequence. Steve followed him, moving so slowly it was nearly unnoticeable. He groped into his pockets, finding the bottle with the red syrup in it. Steve thanked any deity listening that they didn’t use all of it earlier.

”Now Tony, you need to drink this. It’s your healing potion and should help heal your wounds,” Steve explained.

Tony refused, another shock wave sending them back and knocking everyone at shore back off their feet. Bucky snatched the bottle, pouring a little on his lips then leaning down to kiss Tony. The strongest shock wave yet coursed through them all, Steve skidding back ten feet only to scuttle back. But Bucky stayed rooted where he was by either determination or stubbornness. No one cared which because the results were instantaneous. The deep gashes up Tony’s arms stopped dripping blood and the skin was tugging itself back together. It was grotesque and fascinating to see.

”You have to let us help you,” he whispered against Tony’s lips, “ _please_.”

And that last word was a beg. Steve managed to slip his arms under Tony and lift him. Together, Bucky clasping Tony’s hand, they made it back to solid ground. The moment anyone moved towards them, a shock was sent out. It was getting stronger, throwing the snow back in its force, tearing up the grass underneath. They stood in a shallow crater.

”Stay back,” Steve warned, holding a hand to stop anyone moving closer.

The group stayed, wands pointing down at the assailants. Hammer was sporting a blossoming black eye and Natasha was nursing bruising knuckles. They bound Hammer and Co, levitating them up the lawn slopes, following at a distance as Steve carried Tony to the hospital wing.

”Whoops,” Natasha said tonelessly, as she bashed Hammer against a tree, “my bad.”

 

Tony hadn’t said a word. Any time anyone but Steve or Bucky approached him, he sent out a shock wave. They had had to repair the hospital wing windows six times.

”What’s wrong with him?” Phil asked, casting a concern look at Tony.

Tony was curled into a ball, knees pressed to the bed and head pressed to his knees. The sheets around him weren’t white, instead they were stained with blood, sweat, and muddy water. Steve had managed to get a blanket around him and Bucky had managed to get him to drink the rest of his healing potion. But they couldn’t figure out how to help him. Madam Hunter had no clue and had to relocate the rest of the hospital wing’s patients for their safety.

”We don’t know,” Natasha admitted, “and there’s been no change. He won’t let anyone near him but those two.”

She was leaning against the door frame, Phil resting his chin on her shoulder. Clint was just inside the room, sitting on the bed furthest from Tony. Clint tipped his head back, looking at Nat and Phil upside down.

”I can still hear it, Nat,” Clint admitted, “he’s still screaming. I don’t think he knows it’s over.”

”What do we do?”

Natasha ran her hand through her hair, “I don’t know. I don’t even know what this is.”

 

Ten days, they’d all been in the hospital wing for ten days now. Pepper and Rhodey had rushed here the moment they found out. Everyone was missing classes but none of them cared much. They did joke that Tony would get mad at them for it, ever the little Ravenclaw. Mistress Grey had let them miss classes under the extenuating circumstances. They’d all received a verbal warning of dueling on the school grounds but after hearing everyone’s statements she didn’t discipline anyone further. Hammer on the other hand… Word was going around that he was awaiting trial and would likely be sent to Azkaban. Tony was barely eating, not drinking. He was going to die unless something changed. There were days, few and far between, where Steve could get him to eat and Bucky could get him to drink. But it was like feeding a mannequin. They had to make him do everything. Nothing was changing. The higher powers were talking about moving him to ‘a more permanent facility’. Everyone knew what they meant. The Janus Thickey Ward in St Mungo’s. And like hell was Tony going there. Steve and Bucky clung to Tony, and Natasha couldn’t make fun of them for crying. It was how she felt too. The door flung open with a bang, a shock wave rippling back against it as Tony reacted to the stimulus. All heads - except Tony’s - turned at the new arrival. Steve stood in confusion.

”Mum?”

”Auntie Sarah,” Bucky had no confusion, only fear and anger, “you aren’t taking him.”

She sighed. Her entire appearance screamed exhaustion. Natasha pushed a chair under her legs, letting her collapse into it. She thanked the red-haired girl with a smile, before turning back to her boys.

”First of all, Steve, you and I are going to be having words later-” Steve ducked his head and nodded. “-Secondly I am not here to take him. I _volunteered_  to assess him. Hopefully, that means we can fix this.”

She reached deep into her handbag, entire arm disappearing before pulling out a mantel clock and tossing at Bucky.

”I want to help but I need you all to co-operate. Why is his handle stuck on petrified?”

”He was attacked mum.”

”They used unforgivable curses on him,” Clint supplied helpfully.

Sarah’s face set in a grim line, standing to walk closer to Tony.

”I wouldn’t. He keeps-”

A shock wave blasted out, smashing what was left of the windows, and sending the beds slamming into walls. Sarah was knocked off her feet, landing flat on her back.

”-doing that,” Clint finished.

”Mum!” Steve cried and rushed to her side.

”Okay, I might have some idea what’s happening,” she rubbed her lower back with a groan, “though I’ve only ever seen this in younger patients, and even then it was normally muggle-borns.”

”What’s going on then?” Clint asked, helping Sarah to her feet.

”It’s a self-defense mechanism. Sort of like fight, flight, or freeze. It’s different in everyone, though usually you find it in younger patients because they haven’t learnt to control their magic yet. Sometimes it will teleport the victim away from the danger. Other times it’s caused the danger to become incapacitated. And sometimes,” she cast a worried glance, “sometimes it will cause the victim to retreat into themselves, a self-preserving effort.”

”Can we help him?”

Sarah shook her head, pulling her hair into a ponytail, “Only if you can get inside his head and coax him out.”

Clint gave Natasha and Phil an odd look. They shook their heads, Natasha going as far as to mouth ‘don’t say anything yet’ to him.

”I need to discuss options with Mistress Grey. I’m sorry everyone. I wish there was more I could do.”

She left the room in silence. The air was still and nothing dared to break them from this nightmare. Tony couldn’t recover. Steve fell into his chair, feeling leaving his hands. Bucky was openly sobbing against Tony, draped over his back. Pepper and Rhodey stared down at Tony’s still figure, still curled into himself. Natasha and Phil took a step forward, placing a hand each on Clint’s shoulders. He looked up at them, eyes glistening.

”Do you think I can do this?” he asked them.

”I think you have a chance,” Natasha said honestly.

Phil nodded, his grip tightening for a moment before relinquishing, “I think that you need to try.”

Clint nodded. He stood up and clapped his hands, everyone turning to him.

”Right then, it’s my time to shine.”

 

“What?”

”You heard your mum. We need to get inside his head and coax him out.”

”We can’t do that.”

”You can’t,” Clint grinned, all faux confidence, “I might just be able to.”

”Are you high?” Bucky asked in all seriousness, sniffing against his running nose, “how the hell can you get in his head?”

Clint shook his head, chuckling under his breath, “not one of you guessed huh? I kept telling you, it’s all about _reading_  people,” Clint’s face broke into a brilliant grin, “Did no one wonder how me and Natasha could communicate wordlessly? How I seemed able to guess your secrets before you told me?”

The room shook their heads, eyes wide.

”You said it was because we were easy to read.”

”I did,” Clint affirmed, “and Christ, you two are so easy. Like no defenses whatsoever. You might want to work on that.”

Steve blushed, pink tinging his pale cheeks.

”You said Tony was difficult to read,” Pepper commented, staring at Clint for a reaction.

”I did,” he said again, “though I never knew why.”

Pepper smiled, “I do. What’s the one thing that can stop a legilimens?”

Clint smacked his palm to his forehead, “Occlumency, why did I never think of that?”

”Wait, can someone explain?” Rhodey asked, looking as confused as Steve and Bucky felt.

Clint nodded at Pepper as he walked closer to Tony, “Clint is a legilimens. Natural born, I assume. He can get into people’s minds. And it seems he wants to try getting into Tony’s.”

”But you said Tony knew occlumency.”

Pepper nodded, looking at Clint for an explanation. He had managed to make it to Tony’s bedside. Steve and Bucky were whispering everything that was happening in the room into his ear. Clint sat at the end of the bed and picked up Tony’s hands.

”Occlumency builds walls in your mind. Like a fortress around a castle,” Clint explained, “But the walls broke when they attacked him. I just need to find the break in the wall before he rebuilds it.”

”How do you know it’s still there?” Steve asked, looking like a guard dog over Tony.

Clint grimaced, face losing all mirth, all confidence.

”Because I can hear him screaming.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

”Nat, Phil, watch the door. Don’t let anyone in until Tony’s awake. And if I get lost, don’t let anyone come in after me.”

”What?” Rhodey looked at the Hufflepuff with concern, “what do you mean?”

”The mind isn’t like a book. I can’t just open it and find the page I need. No one is like that. At least no one I’ve met. I’ve seen minds like castles, minds like filing cabinets, minds woven like cloth. And sometimes you take a wrong turn and end up getting lost in someone else’s head.”

”You could get stuck in there?”

Clint nodded, eyes steeled against the world, “I’m willing to risk this. And none of you can stop me.”

He poked his tongue out with a cheeky grin, before turning back to Tony, all emotions disappearing. He closed his eyes and that was that.

 

He could have been meditating. He was sat cross-legged, holding his palms up with Tony’s hands resting palm down on them. It almost looked peaceful. Almost like Tony was bowing to Clint. But the slight furrow in Clint’s brow told a different story, though Natasha couldn’t read it. It wasn’t pain, or frustration, or anything she was familiar with. This was something new, something different. This was toil and trial. This was sweat across his brow without a single drop forming. This was a grimace without moving a muscle. This was strain and struggle. She just hoped it would work out for them. She couldn’t lose Clint too. Steve and Bucky were sat rigidly, watching Clint for signs of anything. But nothing was showing. Face of Stone. Tony was another story. He made a confused chirp, but that was it. Silence. Everyone froze in their places, waiting a long wait for any sign of change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the fabulous Miss Georgie, for writing comments in German so I can translate them :D
> 
> Still working on translating it... :P


	18. Lost Inside Yourself

#  ****Chapter Eighteen - Lost Inside Yourself** **

Clint looked around, astounded. Tony’s mind had been under siege. The sky was thick with black smoke, the sun struggling to push through. Fire burned everywhere, laying waste to anything it touched. He could see what Tony’s mind used to be. There were shelves, books still stacked carefully in them. Everything was filed away in Tony’s library. But soon fire tore through, the shelves withering into ash and dust. A strong wind blew away the remnants of how Tony used to be. A strong wind revealed who Tony had become. A maze stood before him. Metal walls reached higher than Clint could see. He couldn’t climb that. There wasn’t any way he could. Instead he began searching for a way in. The walls were all solid, blocking him. He circled around, looking for anything. Then, high up and almost but not quite beyond his reach, a metal panel had curled away from the heat of burning bookcases. It was a tiny hole but Clint was sure he could crawl through it. A few steps back. Then he ran up the wall, feet managing to find some purchase. Purchase enough that he could pull himself into the maze.

 

The moment he was through the wall the scenery shifted. He was in an antiquated drawing room, a tall man who looked a lot like Tony swirling something alcoholic around in his glass. Tony walked in, but not the Tony Clint knew. Younger, much younger. He was skinny, deep set eyes. He looked underfed, hair hanging limply across his face.

”Sort your hair out, won’t you,” Howard growled.

Tony scrunched up his nose and suddenly the hair grew short.

”I meant with scissors,” Howard grumbled.

Tony blinked up at him, wide-eyed.

”Do you know why I summoned you here?”

Tony nodded, hands stuck into his pockets and scuffing his foot back and forward. Howard unbuckled his belt, snapping it against the floor. Tony flinched but kept his eyes fixed to the floor.

”I told you to stay away from that dirty muggle boy-”

”But Yinsen is really nice,” little Tony protested.

The belt struck the floor with a crack. Howard raised his arm above his head, telling Tony to to turn around, his back to Howard and to pull up his shirt. Tony obliged, resigned to his fate. Howard swung. But the belt never hit Tony.

”Fuck off, Howard,” Clint snarled, the belt wrapped around his arm.

He had painful welts from the hit but like hell was he going to let Howard hit teeny Tony. He tugged the belt out of Howard’s grasp, pointing his wand at Howard.

” _ _Riddikulus.__ ”

Howard’s trousers dropped, leaving him in heart-printed underwear. Little Tony giggled behind him. Then the room dropped away, leaving Clint standing in a pool of silver, stringy liquid.

”Memories, huh?”

He poked the pool with his wand. It swirled around his feet, but stayed opaque. Clint sighed and walked on.

 

He could still hear screaming. He tried to follow it but every time there was a fork in the path he seemed to pick the dead end. He waded through, feeling ghosts of hands clinging to him. Every time he tried to see what held him, the feeling faded away. Until he stepped forward. It was like stepping on a landmine, the surroundings blowing up into something new. Tony couldn’t have been more than nine, hands tied behind his back and sat on the floor. He was glaring up at three people. The memory wasn’t distinct, Tony couldn’t remember their faces. Instead they were tall and looming, tricks of the past making them into monsters.

”What have we got here?”

”A little pure-blood pedigree.”

”You’ll fetch a good price.”

Tony spat at their feet. One of the men, wand pointed between Tony’s eyes.

”Lotta balls for a kid.”

Tony grinned shark-like at them, all bared teeth and obnoxious smile.

”Not very talkative, are ya?”

”My words are wasted on you,” Tony smile was feral, and Clint could see him loosening the ropes behind his back.

The thug pulled his wand back, getting ready to fire a spell, when Clint grabbed Tony and ran. The scene changed and suddenly they were in a small thicket of trees, Tony breathing heavily, like he’d done all the running. Clint realised something right then. Tony had done the running, not in the memory but in the reality of that memory. Tony had got himself free, had got himself out.

”Do you always fight by yourself?”

The memory of Tony nodded. Clint pulled the kid into a hug.

”You aren’t alone anymore.”

And the memory of Tony dripped away, strings of memories clinging to Clint’s hand. The scene faded, the memories falling back into the pool. Clint expected a splash but they were silent, slipping away and swirling around his feet. He kept walking.

 

He could hear the screaming. It was getting louder. As Clint moved through the maze it it seemed to always come from the same direction, no matter how Clint turned. Clint managed to orientate it, locating the sound at the center of the maze. He followed it. Nothing more than a guess but he suspected that Tony would be there. The memories were getting stronger as Clint walked through. Less like ghosts and more like ghouls, ugly creatures trying to stop him moving further. The silver strands wrapped around his legs, holding him in place. A memory rose up, twisting itself into a form Clint recognised. It was him, much much younger, but it was him. He was wearing Hogwarts robes but no house colours. Clint paled. He knew this memory. Clint had been sorted and had sat down at the Hufflepuff table, watching the rest of his year try on the hat. But then it was Tony’s turn.

_Not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin. I can’t be a pure-blood in Slytherin. _  
__

The words were so quiet but it was like they were being whispered in Clint’s ear. He could remember hearing Tony’s thoughts, only for that brief moment. He watched as surprise caught his eleven year old self off guard, squeaking loudly in the quiet room.

”YOU’RE A PURE-BLOOD?”

The only reason he remembered being so shocked was that he shared a carriage with Tony on the train into Hogwarts and the kid was obsessed with anything and everything muggle related. Clint had been teaching him muggle board games on the ride up. But his words echoed back in waves through the hall, students turning to each other and whispering slurs. Little Tony, the sorting hat covering his eyes, ducked his head. The hat cried out Ravenclaw and he walked somberly over to his table. Clint watched as Hammer already started giving Tony grief for his blood-status. The scene shifted into Clint tugging at Rumlow, pulling him away from Tony as he swung wildly.

_Everything you do, you do because of guilt. _  
__

That was Tony’s voice. He wasn’t accusing him. At least Clint didn’t think so. It felt like he was questioning him. Clint shook his head, looking up at the sky and talking.

”At first, yes. I felt horrible that because I blurted out something that caused you harm. But I began to like you as a person. Hell, I liked you from that first train ride up when we played battleships together. I am your friend, and not because I feel like I have to be, but because I want to be!”

The memories didn’t fade this time. Instead they shattered like glass. A grinding sound ran through the walls before they started closing in on each other.

”Shit!”

Clint ran but there was no where to turn. He heard the sound of sections of walls crushing in on each other, metal striking metal with a fury, sparks flying past him. He could feel rust brushing his arms as he ran. The walls would crush him. He dived, rolling into the next section. The walls slammed closed behind him, dust falling down. Crows flew overhead, cawing loudly.

”Um, WHAT?” Clint cast a rude gesture at the sky, “I’m trying to help you! And trying to crush me?! Not HELPING!”

He kicked the wall in frustration. The metal fell away, revealing tall hedges. A wrought iron gate stood between Clint and his next path. Tony was on the other side, black mist pouring off him. He tilted his head, just slightly, waiting for Clint to say something else. And then Clint realised.

”You wouldn’t crush me. You were guiding me.”

Tony nodded, turning and walking away. Clint vaulted the gate, chasing after him.

”Tony, please wait.”

And he did, but only ever long enough for Clint to see which way he was going. Always several steps ahead. The maze had changed and the rules with it. As Clint ran, he brushed his hand against the leaves on the hedge walls.

 

He managed to walk a few feet before the next memory happened. Although Clint couldn’t call this a memory. Rather than being made of silver liquid-like string, it was made of dark smoke, its hand caressing Clint’s cheek. He stumbled back and away from it. The smoke settled into a human form. Tony was standing in front of him clutching his head. But more smoke burst from him, settling into more human figures. And he recognised them. Myrtle, Steve, Bucky, Howard, and the form Tony took to be with Lance (Clint thought he heard her be called Antonia), then a few girls in lower years, someone with amazing make-up and flaming hair, a girl with olive skin and curly brown hair, and a Ravenclaw boy.

”Are you you?” The flame haired woman stepped forward.

”Or are you me?” Howard asked.

”Are you a he?” Myrtle berated.

”Or are you a she?” The Ravenclaw boy demanded.

”Are you everyone?” they chanted, “or no one?”

Clint didn’t understand. Why were these people here? It made no sense. A ginger haired lower year walked up to him and tilted his head up with a wicked smile.

”Are you a male? Are you a female?”

”Are you both? Are you neither?” The crowd chanted, circling Tony, vultures ready to pick at his carcass, “You’re a she for Lance. Are you a she for you? You’re a he for Howard. Are you a he for you? Are you ever you?”

Clint stepped back slightly. Their chanting was ominous, cult-like in its cadence. They were closing in around Tony, smothering him, suffocating him.

Howard stepped up to his son, “Stark men are made of iron, but are you a man?”

The girl with olive skin stepped forward, tone light and face cold, “Stark women are made of wisdom, but are you a woman?”

“What are you?” the group chorused, “ _What_ are you?”

”Tony isn’t a what,” Clint pushed through the figures surrounding Tony, “Tony is Tony.”

He placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. And the touch seemed to purify the air around them, feeling cleaner and warmer. Steve tried to grab at Clint, dragging him away. But silver strands of memory wrapped around his ankles, holding him firmly in place next to Tony.

”Tony is Tony. He is iron and he is wise. Tony is a he if he chooses and a she if she wishes. But Tony will always be Tony.”

The smoke dissipated, leaving Clint with his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

”I’m neither,” Tony confided, “But I like using he. Nothing else feels right. I don’t want to change that, unless I ask to.”

”Okay, we’ll do just that.”

And then Tony turned to white mist, floating up into the sky. And the screaming grew louder.

 

He was approaching the center of the maze, hedges thinning and turning into wrought metal fences. There was always a sense of grandeur. It didn’t match Tony at all. It was odd. Like Tony felt the need to put on a show. Clint walked swiftly onwards, hugging his arms closer to him. Something snagged his ankle. He looked down, expecting it to be a coil of silver memory. It wasn’t. A pale hand had grabbed him. It tugged sharply downwards, Clint sinking into memory. The hand belonged to Tony, Clint would have pegged him as around twelve years old. He pressed a finger to his lips and beckoned Clint to follow him. He led him down dark hallways. Dark red carpet was beneath Tony’s slippered feet. He was dressed as if he should have been asleep, but something had woken him up in the middle of the night. Tony stopped at a door, opening it and allowing Clint through first. They were in the drawing room again, but Tony immediately walked over to an ornate and ostentatious ebony desk. Intricate carvings, detailing what Clint could only guess were the Salem Witch Trials, decorated the sides. It told a history that Howard clearly demanded be remembered. Remembered and feared forever. Tony rifled through the drawers, casting anxious looks at the door.

”He doesn’t know I’m here,” Tony explained quietly, voice so quiet it couldn’t count as a whisper. It was like a breeze passing by gently.

”Howard?”

Tony nodded, before resuming his dig through the drawers, “Tony doesn’t know I exist.”

”Urm, what?”

”Tony doesn’t know I exist,” Tony repeated.

”What do you mean?”

”Aha,” Tony exclaimed gleefully, holding a bundle of letters above his head in triumph.

He pressed them to Clint’s chest, ushering him backwards towards a closet.

”Memorise the handwriting, make sure you can write Tony’s name like that,” Tony begged him, “Tony needs to know.”

Clint unfurled the letters, pulling out a blank page. 

”I never got to read them,” Tony explained, “I don’t know what they say.”

Footsteps sounded down the hall. Tony pushed him into the cupboard, quickly copying the bundle of letters. Tony held a fake set in his hand which he quickly set on Howard’s desk, resuming his search for more. Clint half watched the scene and half tried to memorise the way Tony’s name was written at the top of the letter. The top part of the ‘T’ started low and ended in a flick upwards. The ‘o’ was the only letter written in perfect cursive. The ‘n’ was written as a capital but was the same size as the ‘o’. The ‘y’s tail swept under all the other letters. It was oddly mismatched, like the person writing it had their head in the clouds. Clint traced the lettering, holding his wand like a pen to the pages. The drawing room door swung open with a crash, Howard storming into the room with fury in his eyes.

”You found them, didn’t you?”

Clint watch Tony nod and hand over the stack of letters. Howard pulled out his wand.

”I’m sorry son, this is for your own good. She would be nothing but a bad influence. _Obliviate _.__ ”

The room flashed with bright light. And then Clint was back in the maze, clasping a stack of letters. But they were crumbling apart in his hands, turning to ash. Clint sat against the metal iron fencing, hand covering his mouth. Did he really just see that? Howard just obliviated his own son. For finding some letters. And Tony, the real Tony, didn’t know any of this. The Tony in the memory had been right. Tony didn’t know that memory existed. Clint was floored for a while, unable to move past what he’d just seen. But then the screaming filtered back in. He was here for a reason and that memory wasn’t it. He stood and started running.

 

The screaming wasn’t just screaming. It was words. Clint couldn’t make them out, but the rise in pitch and tone changed, a syllabic rise and fall. He rounded a corner and stood in front of a lake. His path fed into the lake, silver memories a river into black smokey water.

”Holy shit.”

There was an island in the center of the lake. And it was completely on fire. Clint could see bookcases tumbling into the lake and ashes rising, carried by the heat of the flames. Two people were watching the destruction, faces impassive.

”Steve, Bucky,” Clint stepped up to them cautiously.

There was no way in hell they had managed to follow him. Yet here they were. Which meant they were part of Tony’s mind. Black smoke was rolling off them, as they stood hand in hand. They kissed before turning to Clint.

”Hi Clint,” Steve greeted cheerily, “we were just talking about how much better off we are without Tony.”

”Yeah, why would we need him when we love each other so much?”

Clint almost laughed. This was what Tony was worried about? That Steve and Bucky didn’t love him. And he thought Bucky and Steve were idiots. But Tony, he took the cake and the platter too. Did he really not see how stupidly love sick all three of them were for each other? Clint screamed into his hands. It was so frustrating. He couldn’t solve this by himself. He needed to bring in Steve and Bucky, and that would put a hell of a strain on him.

 

_Natasha _  
__

A voice whispering in her ear. Calling her. She knew the voice and would always answer him.

_Clint, what do you need? _  
__

She watched his body with interest. Despite him calling to her, nothing changed. He was still meditating with Tony’s hands in his. But his voice sounded distressed, strain stretching him thin.

_I need Steve and Bucky. In here._

_How?_

_Tell them to aim their wands at me and use_ Legilimens _, hopefully it won’t take more than two attempts. I won’t fight it. And I won’t need them long. They just need to help Tony. I need them to help_ _Tony._

_Okay, I’ll tell them. _  
__

”Clint needs you.”

Everyone looked at Natasha, as if she was talking to them. Shaking her head slightly she readdressed the room.

”Steve, Bucky, Clint needs you with him. There’s something he can’t do without your help.”

”Well, we can’t get in Tony’s head!”

Natasha rolled her eyes at Bucky, “I am going to teach you how, of course. Clint’s been teaching me. You’ll need your wands,” Natasha pulled out hers, swishing it through the air.

Steve pulled his out uncertainly, Bucky only doing so once Steve’s was out. Natasha nodded at them both.

”Okay, now aim your wands at Clint. This won’t hurt him… I don’t think,” she mumbled under breath.

They hesitated but at her encouraging nod they aimed their wands at him. Bucky’s hand was shaking, Steve slipping his free hand into Bucky’s.

”We can do this. We can.”

_Can you tell them to hurry up? _  
__

Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint’s tone.

_You had enough trouble teaching me, how am I meant to teach them?_

_C’mon Tasha._

_Clint, I have no clue what I’m doing._

_Don’t tell them that. _  
__

”Okay, so,” she was trying to remember everything Clint had ever taught her about Legilimency, “there are no wand movements. Now repeat after me. _Legilimens_.”

” _Legilimens _,”__ they echoed.

Nothing. Natasha made a small noise of irritation.

”Try again,” she ordered.

They tried again. And still nothing. Bucky growled in his throat, irritation stirring in both of them.

”Again,” she demanded.

Steve’s face was set, and Bucky’s hands were steady. They repeated the spell again. A clear wave burst from their wands, distorting their surroundings. Then their bodies went completely still.

 

Clint waved them hello.

”’Bout time you got here.”

”What can we do?” Steve asked immediately, pulling himself to his feet.

It had been a rough landing. Steve landed flat on his stomach, Bucky landing half on Steve on his back. Bucky was looking around in… horror was the only word. He covered his ears against the screams. Ash was swirling down on them like snow. The only light they had was from a bonfire on an island across a lake of darkness. Two figures were standing on the lakes edge, looking over it like it was the most romantic spot in the world.

”You need to get rid of them,” Clint stated, pointing at the romantic pair.

”But that’s us!” Steve protested, “you want to get rid of us from Tony’s mind?”

Clint shook his head, “While I’ve been waiting for you, I’ve been watching them. They aren’t anything real. I’m guessing here, but everything made of black smoke seems to be…” Clint twisted his face, like he was trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth, “I think it’s anxiety. Has Tony ever had panic attacks?”

Bucky shook his head, but Steve looked like he was considering something.

”Maybe. He froze up on us over the Christmas holidays. He wouldn’t respond to anything we said but when I touched him he flinched.”

”Spilt coffee all over himself,” Bucky added, looking to Clint for confirmation.

”Yeah, I mean I’m no doctor but from what I’ve seen in here, I reckon he might… need some reassuring about some things and to talk some other things out. But now, we need to get rid of these guys.”

The Steve and Bucky staring across the lake turned to them. They needed other names. Bucky thought for a moment. Doppelganger Steve would now be called Shithead. And the Pretender Bucky would be called… Bitchface. And God, Shithead and Bitchface were annoying.

”Who are you?” They asked.

Bucky mimicked their voices in his head. He hoped he really didn’t sound like that. Urgh, it was worse than hearing a voice recording. Did they sound like that to Tony? The sneering tone, the coldness. He hoped not.

”You, but stronger,” Bucky smirked.

”You don’t love him,” Shithead smirked at Steve, “you love Bucky, but you will never love Tony.”

”Stop talking crap.”

Shithead, Bitchface, and Bucky all chorused at him, “Language!”

Steve dropped his head into his hands, “I hate you all.”

”But you don’t love him,” Bitchface taunted, “You’ll never love him. You think you love him now, but you don’t. Just admit it. You’ll get bored once he’s served his purpose.”

”And what purpose is that?” Bucky asked, raising his eyebrows and making a face.

”Sex,” Shithead replied, “having access to his work. He has a few uses, but he’s not worth the hassle.”

Bucky turned to Steve, “please tell me that we aren’t that far up our own asses?”

Steve shook his head, laughing.

”C’mon,” Bitchface urged, “we know he’s not worth your time. You just need to say so.”

Bucky stepped forward, opening his mouth, then closing it again. He smiled widely at his counter-part. Then he kicked Bitchface in the chest. The copy of him toppled backwards, landing in the black lake. The dark waters swallowed him. Steve was staring, open mouthed.

”He was pissing me off,” Bucky explained, “your turn.”

Steve swung, punching Shithead along the bridge of his nose. He crumpled, black smoke pouring out of him. He doubled over, clasping his nose.

”You won’t get rid of us so easily,” Shithead threatened.

”What are you, some lame comic book villain?” Bucky jeered, looking bored with the whole affair, “can’t you just fuck off?”

Shithead snarled at him. And then Steve kicked him into the waters. The waters began churning, waves kicking up against the shore. Clint laughed behind them, dusting his hands off.

”Well, that takes care of that.”

”What do we do now?” Bucky asked, fists clenched at his sides.

”Well, _we_ don’t do anything. You need to leave.”

”What? Why?” Steve grabbed Clint’s arms, pinning them to his side.

”Because of what’s about to happen.”

Clint pulled them all down to the ground, pressing Steve’s and Bucky’s heads to the ground. The world shook around them. Black waters rose up into a tidal wave, throwing up dark mist and rain into the air. Iron fences rattled behind them. The shaking threw up dust and dirt, toppling what remained of the bookcases. 

”I think you should go. Now,” Clint stressed.

 

Steve slammed back into his body, enough force to send him reeling backwards. Bucky dropped to his knees, retching harshly.

”Urgh,” Steve groaned, clutching his head, “how the hell does Clint do that all the time?”

Natasha shrugged.

_How do you do it?_

_With amazing Stamina. Ask Phil. _  
__

Natasha smirked, _he may have mentioned something about you being a stallion. _  
__

She heard Clint’s laugh.

_How are things in there?_

_I’ll let you know when I’m done._

 

He’d kept himself sounding happy for Nat but honestly, this was exhausting. He needed to get across the lake. But his options seemed to be 1) swim across, 2) build a way across, or 3) give up. Except three wasn’t an option. He looked at the water. It honestly did not seem like anything he wanted to wade into. So he walked around, looking for inspiration. The shore of the lake was in ruins. Burnt planks of wood were piled haphazardly, bookcases were toppled over. Stacks of books were everywhere, but completely undamaged. The information was safe but the order was made into chaos. Clint pulled out his wand. The bookcases were levitated into the water. The water didn’t ripple as Clint placed them in position. He quickly fixed the boards to the bookcases, creating some sort of walkway to the island. He stepped on it cautiously, testing each step.

”Well fuck me, this actually worked.”

He took a couple more tentative steps before strutting along confidently.

”Hell yeah. I got this.”

Then he fell flat on his face. Because of course he did. Grumbling and stretching his jaw, Clint looked around for what caused him to fall. And he saw them. Horrible beasts with no eyes, no ears, just sharp claws and mouths full of fangs. Skin black as oil, slick as a seal’s fur. They leaked black liquid, tainting everything they touched. The lake seemed to be made of their run-off, the air they breathed turned into black smoke. They were hissing at him through clenched teeth, pulling at him. They were trying to drag him under the water.

”You can’t save him.”

”You did this to him.”

”You’re a bad person.”

The one that grabbed him was crawling up the board, towards him. The creature was getting closer, strings of drool caught between its teeth. It snapped its jaw, drawing closer and closer.

”You should join him.”

These creatures were horrible. They smelt like blood and brackish water, the odour clinging to the air. Clint couldn’t breathe.

_Don’t listen to them. _  
__

Natasha’s voice. 

_Find Tony and get both of you out. _  
__

She was right. He had a job to do. He kicked out, clocking the creature in the mouth. It fell off the board with a wail, claws scratching grooves into the wood. Clint ran. He needed to make it to the island. The creatures were bursting out the water from all sides, trying to snatch him and drag him down.

”We don’t want you here,” one of them shrieked.

”I _never_ would have guessed,” Clint jumped over a sweeping arm, “what with the warm welcome and all.”

He was spending far too long in Tony’s head, he was starting to sound like him. He made it to the island. For some reason the creatures didn’t dare set foot there. The fires still blazed, but there was no warmth there. Clint stepped forward, reaching a hand into the flames. It didn’t hurt, didn’t burn. The fire had a different purpose. It guarded the island. But there was no one to guard. Clint searched everywhere, high and low, under and over. But Tony wasn’t there.

”You won’t find him.”

A creature from the water called him, mocking him.

”He’s gone.”

Clint had his wand out before he knew, flames dancing at the tip.

”Where is he?”

The creature bared its teeth into a grotesque smile. It offered its hand. Clint, against his better judgment, took it. He was pulled down into the dark depths.

 

It wasn’t water. It was nothing at all. It was emptiness. Clint looked desperately trying to find Tony. The screams were so clear he could hear every word.

”DIE.”

”SCUM.”

”JUMP IN AND DIE.”

”ALONE.”

”NO ONE WANTS YOU.”

”NO ONE LOVES YOU.”

”THEY HATE YOU.”

”NO FAMILY.”

”THEY LEFT YOU.”

”YOU PUSHED THEM AWAY.”

”YOU’RE A FAILURE.”

”A DISAPPOINTMENT.”

”NOT ATHLETIC ENOUGH.”

”NOT PURE ENOUGH.”

”NOT SMART ENOUGH.”

”NEVER GOOD ENOUGH.”

The voices, the screams, always had something new to say, always had to have the last word. He could hear sobbing. He followed the sound, walking in the darkness. _Lumos_ shed no light; he was walking blind. He could see himself, his hands, his feet. But he couldn’t see what he was about to step on or what he was about to walk into. He fumbled around trying to find the source of the sobbing. But he could still hear the screams.

”YOU DESERVE TO DIE.”

” _CRUCIO _.__ ”

The sobs turned to shrieks of pain as the darkness lit red. The creatures were dogging Clint’s steps. They hushed their snickers, crawling around him.

”You’ll never find him,” they taunted, “you should give up. Just like everyone does.”

The darkness crept back in, suffocating.

”Is that what he thinks? That I’ll just leave him, that everyone will?”

”Everyone leaves eventually. His mother was the first. Then Yinsen. Then Jarvis. Now his own father doesn’t want him. Biologically designed to love him. And he doesn’t want Tony. Can’t stand to be around him. What does that say about Tony?”

”Absolutely nothing. But it says a lot about his father.”

The creatures hissed at him, pulling away. They shied away at his words, growling.

”Tony,” he yelled at the darkness, “I’m not leaving so you might as well show yourself.”

The darkness was gone in a blink. Instead they were standing on a frozen lake. The Lake. And Tony was curled in the center of it, the dark creatures surrounding him. Tony looked smaller, younger. He was skinny and shaking, hair racing through ever colour Clint knew (and a few he didn’t). Clint stepped forward. The ice cracked beneath his feet, spreading like a spider’s web across the lake.

”Tony, please let me reach you.”

”I don’t know how,” Tony curled tighter in on himself, sobbing desperately, “they’re going to kill me, they’re not going to stop.”

The creatures had wands, raising them, pointing them at Tony. One raised its wand, pointing it directly between Tony’s closed eyes. Clint took another cautious step. Instead of cracking, the ice spiked up, creating a barrier between him and Tony.

”We won’t let them. We got them this time and we’ll get them next time and however many other times. As many as it takes.”

Tony drew a shaky breath, “they’ll kill you too. They won’t stop,” he broke down crying again, ice fracturing under him, “I should die. I should have died. I deserve it.”

Clint blasted apart the wall of ice, skidding along before Tony could react. The dark creatures scattered as ice was fired at them like shrapnel. Clint wrapped Tony in a hug, pulling him close.

”No matter what you think, or what those faceless creatures tell you, you don’t deserve to die. You are alive and we are so happy for that. But we want you to come back to us.”

”They’re going to kill me.”

Clint shook his head, holding Tony tighter, “They aren’t. Hammer will be on trial soon and sentenced to Azkaban for using- using those spells on you. We’ll keep you safe.”

Tony was shaking in his arms. Still petrified but he was responding, reacting to Clint. That was a step enough.

”Steve and Bucky. They’re waiting for you outside.”

Tony looked up for the first time, eyes wide. He looked hopeful. If only for a moment, before his face fell. His lip wobbled and he started crying again.

”They hate me. I yelled at them.”

”Honestly, I don’t think they will even remember that. Tony, they haven’t left your side since the lake.”

Tony blinked, “They aren’t mad?”

”Fuck no. I reckon they’ll be devastated if you choose to stay here though.”

Tony nodded, a watery smile on his lips, “They stayed,” he laughed, but it tinged a little with hysteria, “they stayed.”

”Yes, and they want to see you again. I can get you back to them,” Clint pleaded.

”Okay. If you say it’s safe, I’ll trust you.”

Clint hugged Tony tightly, a faint sigh of relief passing his lips. Tony pulled back for a second.

”I don’t know how to leave,” Tony admitted, playing with his hands.

Clint beamed at him, “well lucky for you, I’ve been wandering around here for a while. I’m sure I can get us out.”

Clint sat down with Tony, holding his palms flat. Tony placed his hands on Clint’s and the world around them faded away.


	19. The Fear of Falling Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am so bad at uploading. But I'm finally in a stable position in life (temporarily albeit, but hell I'll take it), past writer's block, and actually have the energy to write. Yay :D So thank you to everyone for being so patient with me, for leaving me kudos and comments (I live for comments), and for everyone who has stuck around this long. I hope you enjoy the chapter. There should be more to come soon-ish.

#  Chapter Nineteen - The Fear of Falling Apart

It was the voices. They came back first. They were always there but now he allowed himself to hear them.

”Give him a moment.”

Breathless. Stressed. But still calm and full of authority. Clint’s voice.

”Is he okay?”

Worried. Strained. Choked up from… crying maybe. It sounded like Steve.

”He’ll be… well, not fine, not yet. Give him time.”

And that was Clint again. He sounded exhausted. But there was a banging too, a heavy thumping of someone’s fist against wood.

”You have three seconds to open this door.”

Was that… that was their head mistress. Why was she here? Tony listened as the door was unlatched, feet stumbling in. Raised voices. The head mistress still. Yelling at everyone. No. She was yelling at everyone but him. His name was never mentioned.

”Locking us out at such a critical time! This is unacceptable behaviour!”

”But you were going to have him moved!”

Yelling. He knew that voice too. Defiant. Protective. He knew the sound of this person when they were angry. That had to be Bucky arguing with the head mistress. But who were they arguing about? Footsteps across the room. He could hear the squeak of the shoes and the careful gait as it drew nearer.

”Mum, are you okay? How’s your back?”

Steve again. His voice overflowing with concern.

”Yeah, just a few bruises. How’s Tony?”

Sarah Rogers. Steve’s mum. Her voice was full of… sympathy, that’s the word. All his thoughts seemed to trickle out of him like cold treacle, stiff and unmoving. Stagnant. Why were they asking about him? Something brushed his back and suddenly all senses of feeling came rushing back. He ached. Completely with bone deep exhaustion. He felt heavy but like his skin was too taut around him, clinging to his hips and ribs. The bed sheets were soft but they felt out of place against the brittleness of the rest of him. But the thing on his back, a large warm hand stroking up and down his spine, it felt nice. That seemed to pull him further and further out from wherever he’d been.

”Clint says he’ll be okay if we give him time.”

He didn’t need time. He needed to know what the hell was going on. A hand was lifting his chin, up and up, away from where it was curled to his chest.

”Did Clint say how much time would be needed?” Sarah asked.

”Honestly, I don’t know. That’s kind of up to him,” Clint said.

But his tone was helpless. Tony didn’t like that one bit. It felt like he was swimming against the tide, but he swam. And it crept in gradually, but he could smell something. Kind of. It smelt like… kind of like leather and kind of like old books. It smelt kind of like a lot of things but everything blended together. There was something sweet mixed in. That was the strongest. Tony focused on that and inhaled. And with that breath, he felt his body. No, that’s not right. He felt like he was inside his body, instead of floating in an empty space.

”Tony, can you hear me?”

Sarah was calling to him. But he couldn’t talk. His throat just wouldn’t work, wouldn’t even croak. He wanted to nod but that seemed out of the question. All his energy was spent fighting the tide that wanted to pull him back into the darkness. He didn’t want to go back into the darkness.

”Hey, Tony,” Steve again, but his hand had moved, threading through Tony’s hair, “you with us?”

He really wanted to nod, but his body just wasn’t working with him. Sarah’s hands were on his cheeks and he could feel the slight drag of her nails against his skin.

”Try giving him water.”

That tone. Pepper, definitely. Bossy but like, in a good way. Like she could run the world and fix it in a day. Something was placed against his lips. A straw, synthetic plastic taste overrunning his taste buds. But he drank, feeling how raw his throat was. It burnt as it went down, cold water leaving searing trails. But he felt better for it.

”He’s drinking!” Someone was crying, but happy crying, “Fuck, he’s drinking! Clint, can I give you like a million points to Hufflepuff.”

Rhodey. That was Rhodey. But Rhodey was crying because he was drinking? That didn’t make any sense.

”Tony, are you with us?” Sarah’s voice again.

”’es,” he managed, unable to make the ‘y’ of ‘yes’.

The room heaved a collective sigh. Tony almost felt blown away by the force of it. And if there was only one thing he was certain of, it was that he’d fucked up somehow. He drank more water, hoping it would help him speak.

”Where- t’ey?” he tried to ask, voice cracking and croaking around every sound.

”Where are who?” Sarah asked, placing the straw to his lips again.

He drank deeply, the glass empty.

”Stucky,” he shook his head, words getting muddled, “Beve.”

That wasn’t right either. Words were getting mix up, smashed together. His head just wasn’t working with him. He knew they were both nearby but he didn’t  _know_  that. Not really. They might have gone, left. His mind was turning somersaults to try and justify why he was feeling so needy, why he wanted them right by his side. Hammer might come back and try to hurt them. The Centaurs might back out of their agreement and seek out Steve and Bucky. Those creatures of darkness and smoke might consume them. But all of those were lies. He just wanted them. Otherwise those creatures would consume him and leave him in darkness.

”We’re right here,” Steve whispered to him, one arm wrapping around Tony in a hug.

Another arm wrapped around him, a hand brushing back unkempt hair, “we’ll be right here for as long as you need and want us to be.”

”I’m sorry,” Tony managed, keeping his eyes closed and sniffing back tears.

He’d messed up. He’d accused them of things they’d never do. He’d blanked Bucky’s memory. He’d pretended to be them to get them together. He’d done so much for selfish reasons. Why would they ever love him? He didn’t deserve it.

”Hey,” Bucky said softly, wiping away any tears that fell, “hey, there’s no reason to be sorry. None of this was your fault.”

”The car, the yelling,” Tony sobbed, “I shouldn’t have, I should have listened, I’m such an idiot.”

Steve pulled Tony into his lap, hands clasped over Tony’s stomach and chin resting on Tony’s shoulder. He rocked him backwards and forward, in time to the rocking Tony hadn’t noticed he’d been doing.

”Maybe so,” Steve agreed, “not about the idiot part, just the not listening part. But we weren’t the best either. I think we all just need to communicate better.”

”I’m sorry,” Tony repeated desperately, hands clutched together.

Bucky kissed the top of his head, “it doesn’t matter. But Tony, can you open your eyes for us? We haven’t seen your gorgeous eyes yet and I really want you to look at me when I say this.”

Tony shook his head. Bucky moved closer, hugging him.

”Why not?” he whispered into the shell of Tony’s ear.

Tony shook his head again, shaking. Sarah tapped the clock on the bedside table, passing it over to Steve. Tony’s hand had settled on terrified.

”What are you scared of?” Bucky asked, settling a hand on the back of Tony’s head.

His voice was barely with him. Just a hint of a whisper escaping his lips.

”That this is still in my head.”

Clint grimaced, “asshole, I’ve been in your head. And trust me, we are not there. You are in the hospital wing, and if I’m wrong I’ll eat my own shoe.”

”Quick, carry Tony into the corridor before he opens his eyes,” Natasha teased, eyes glittering with mischief and unshed tears of relief.

”He didn’t say he couldn’t transfigure his shoe,” Phil quipped.

”Phil’s my favourite,” Clint laughed.

Tony opened his eyes cautiously. Everything was too bright. He slammed them closed again, whimpering at the ache it left in his head.

”Shush, shush,” Steve said, kissing his temple, “you’re okay. Guys, can we make the room darker?”

Tony listened as several candles were blown out. He opened his eyes tentatively, the room darker and less painful on the eyes. It was dark outside the windows and the room was only lit by a few candles on the other side of the room. Tony blinked a few times, trying to turn unfocused and blurry shapes into the people he loved. Steve cuddled closer, smiling when Tony turned to look at him.

”There he is,” Steve grinned brightly, “glad to have you back.”

Steve pecked his lips, Bucky doing the same. Steve lifted Tony easily from his lap, settling himself next to Bucky and Tony directly in front of them both.

”We love you,” they both stated in unison.

And Tony couldn’t stop the tears now, hand covering his mouth to stifle his cries.

”Please tell me those are happy tears,” Steve pressed forwards, lips inches from Tony’s.

At Tony’s nod, Steve pulled his hand away and kissed him softly, like they had all the time in the world. And they did now, as strange and unreal as that felt. When Steve pulled away, Bucky kissed Tony, then kissed Steve too. Sarah coughed awkwardly.

”As…  _fun_ as this is, I do need to check over my patient-slash-partner in crime.”

”Your partner in crime?”

”Yeah, Tony can tell you himself later, but right now, I need you both to back away a second and let me examine my patient.”

She made shooing motions, Steve and Bucky hopping off the bed and trying not to cave at Tony’s reluctant whine.

”How do you feel?” Sarah asked as she took his pulse and felt for any fever.

He was barely holding himself upright, eyes darting to seek out Bucky and Steve. They moved to stand together, within an arms reach. Then his eyes kept jumping from person to person. They were all there, all safe. The smoke had yet to ensnare them too. He didn’t want the smoke to get them. Because it would drain them, like it drained him. He was an empty shell, exhausted from the struggle.

”Tired.”

”Understandable, you’ve been through a lot. When was the last time you ate?”

Tony shrugged. What did him eating have to do with anything?

”You are underweight, and I would hazard a guess that you haven’t eaten a proper meal for at least a month.”

”Okaaay?”

”You need to eat,” Sarah explained simply.

”I’ve been doing fine so far.”

She shook her head, feeling a little exasperated, “I’m sure there are people in this room who would beg to differ about your eating habits.” She turned to everyone else, and everyone’s hands shot up. Rhodey raised both his hands. Tony gave them all a betrayed look. He was fine, he didn’t need food. What he needed was to study, catch up on work.

”Oh no, I know that look, you are not going to the library or any classes until you have eaten at least three meals solid for a week,” Pepper ordered.

Sarah nodded with her, “I agree. While I can’t stop you going to class, and honestly feel that you might go stir crazy confined to a bed, I recommend limited physical activities, lots of rest, and a structured meal plan for you to adhere to. Don’t push yourself.”

Tony nodded morosely. If only for show. Like hell would he not go to class. He  _needed_  class.

”Steve, James, may I speak to you both outside? Clint, you too, if you don’t mind?”

They all nodded and followed her out the door.

 

Sarah waited for a second after the door closed. She seemed hesitant to speak. But eventually she asked him. ”What was it like in there, Clint? We need to know what to expect.”

”But I- I don’t know if I should say. It’s his head after all.”

”And while that’s very loyal of you, he’s only acting okay.”

”How do you know?”

Sarah handed Clint the clock. The hand wasn’t moving, resting dead center of powerless.

”It’s been there almost the entire time he’s been unconscious. It’s moved a couple of times since he’s woken up but otherwise stays right there. I’m worried about him.”

Steve and Bucky nodded next to her. They were really worried now too.

”Okay, fine,” Clint eyed the clock with apprehension, “honestly it’s a mess. I’m no doctor but even I can tell he’s got pretty severe anxiety. Hammer and everyone tried to kill him and it seems like he honestly believes he deserves it.”

”Hmm,” Sarah thought for a moment, “anxiety, probable depression, we are most likely looking at some form of PTSD,” She turned to Steve and Bucky, “are you sure you want to date him? It won’t be easy.”

”Nothing worth having ever is,” Steve replied, steel in his eyes, “you won’t talk me out of it, Mum.”

”Me neither, Aunt Sarah,” Bucky gripped Steve’s hand, squeezing tightly.

”I’m not trying to. I just want you to know what you’re getting into, because that boy does not deserve any more hurt and if you bail because it’s too hard…”

”We won’t,” Steve assured.

”Okay,” Sarah held up her hands in surrender, small smile on her face at her son’s indignation, “as long as you  _both_  are sure about this. Also, Steve, for the record, you’re grounded from the moment you get home.”

”WHAT!”

Sarah smiled at him, “while I am immensely proud of you for doing the right thing, I am still your mum and you scared the living daylights out of me. Also your Hogsmeade privileges are revoked, not my doing. Yell at Jean - I mean your headmistress - for that one.”

Urgh, the head mistress had stopped them going to Hogsmeade. No cute dates to Puddifoots then. Steve sighed. It was totally worth it since Tony was okay. Perspective. Perspective was good.

”That’s fair,” Bucky said, turning to go back into the hospital wing.

He paused though, hand on the door.

”Why did you call Tony your partner in crime?”

Sarah grinned, “because he decided to help me get you two idiots together.”

”YOU TOLD HIM!” Steve screeched.

Clint silently slunk away, not wanting to be a part of this little argument. Bucky opened the door to the hospital wing before shutting it back up again. Sarah shook her head.

”I told him nothing. From what he said, he realised long before Christmas.”

Steve sighed, running a hand back through his hair. Dammit, no wonder Tony was so insecure. He’d been watching them pine over each other for maybe months. Steve needed to put an end to that insecurity. He turned, and he and Bucky marched back into the Hospital Wing.

 

Tony was sat up in bed, Pepper and Rhodey on each side, Natasha at his feet. Clint and Phil were at the end of the bed, Phil holding up a flagging Clint. He looked ready to fall asleep on his feet, but stubbornness and a desire to make sure Tony was okay kept him awake.

”So then what happened?” Tony asked.

”Well, you wouldn’t let anyone else near you-”

”Sorry,” Tony said immediately, head dropping to stare at his hands.

”It wasn’t your fault,” Pepper said breezily, “I’m sure I would have done the same," she added in an almost conspiratorial tone. 

”You would?” Tony asked, hesitation and doubt mixing with apprehension.

Pepper nodded and continued the story, “so they carried you up here and you’ve been in this bed since.”

”How long has that been?”

”Ten, eleven days,” Natasha suggested, no one quite sure.

”Coming up for twelve,” Clint corrected, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder.

”What’s the date then?” Tony asked, face clearly showing he was trying to figure out how much work he’d missed.

Clint looked at his watch. Tony had woken up about an hour ago now.

”The 14th.”

”Of February?”

”Yep.”

Tony groaned, falling back into his pillows. Rhodey barked a laugh and Pepper hid a snicker behind her hand.

”I’m a cliche,” Tony threw a dramatic arm over his eyes with a sigh, “everything I ever stood for is destroyed. I’m a sham. Waking up on Valentines day. That’s just- it’s just sickeningly romantic. It’s like I’m staring in my own romance movie. That princess from that film in Muggle Studies. The pink or blue dressed one.”

Rhodey laughed again, wrapping an arm over Tony’s shoulders and jostling him about a little, “you, a sham? This from the guy who set up two guys on New Years because you consider it more romantic. Face it Tones, you are a romantic and you don’t even hide it all that well.”

”I do too!”

”So you admit you’re a romantic?”

”Well- I- You cheated.”

Everyone burst out laughing now. They all took a moment to show their relief in their own ways. Pepper kissed his cheek and Rhodey gave him the bro-est hug he could. Clint high fived, and Natasha squeezed his ankle. Phil, because they hadn’t ever properly met, offered his hand and a self-introduction. Steve and Bucky watched happily from the door. Tony was smiling and it was breathtaking. The curve of his lips, the dimples in his cheeks, the crinkles around his eyes. Breathtaking. Tony’s eyes darted to meet theirs and it grew wider. He made grabby hands at them and they joined him and everyone else on the bed.

 

“I’m going to class.”

”But Tony-” she began pleading.

”Please Pepper! I  _need_  to.”

And this had been the argument for the last half hour. The voice of reason trying to argue with a fraught mind. But she’d keep trying to protect him, because he wasn’t all that great at knowing when he needed to stop and let himself relax.

”You might get hurt again. What you  _need_ is to take it easy!”

”And I will, if you let me go to class!”

”But Tony-”

”You can’t keep me here!”

”Tony, you’re being unreasonable-”

”I’ll jump out the window!”

Steve stepped between them, shooting Pepper a look. She glared right back, even as Bucky moved between them as well.

”We’ll talk to him,” Bucky said simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

He refused to back down on this. Because while they knew Pepper was doing what was probably best for Tony, she wasn’t going about it in the best manner. Tony was getting more agitated by the second, the confrontation causing him to spring into fight or flight. He was constantly glancing at the window, as though he was trying to work out if he could make it out before anyone could stop him. Steve was stroking up and down his arms, trying to soothe him.

”He’s going to class,” Steve said, more to Tony than anyone else, “he’s right, he needs to. We’ll take care of him, we promise.”

Pepper made an exasperated noise, throwing her hands in the air, “You can’t watch him the entire day.”

”He has classes with at least one of us all day. Except Herbology but I’m sure Clint’s happy to watch out for him then.”

Clint nodded in agreement, sitting on a bed and watching the hot headed Gryffindor and stubborn Slytherin argue. He’d never met anyone who rivaled Tony’s stubbornness, but these two were fast becoming contenders. And at least they both had Tony’s best interests at heart.

”What about his other classes!”

”What other classes?”

Pepper raised her eyebrows at Tony, “you haven’t told them,” she groaned, “what am I saying, of course you haven’t.”

”Pepper, please don’t,” Tony begged, stepping around Steve.

He shot anxious looks between Steve and Pepper, before casting a pleading look at Bucky. Bucky took his hand to pull him closer, kissing Tony’s hair as he did.

”Can everyone calm down?” he growled.

He could feel Tony shaking next to him, hand sneaking into Bucky’s pocket, fingers tightening around the fabric. Tony was holding himself together only by sheer force of will at this point. He pulled Tony out of the line of fire, letting Steve and Pepper yell at each other some more.

”Why do you want to go to class so bad?” Bucky asked, pulling Tony closer.

He rested his forehead against Tony’s, hoping his partner could draw strength from his comfort. Tony drew in a shaky breath. He nodded a little, taking Bucky’s hands.

”I don’t want to be scared of them.”

”And you want to do this to show them they haven’t beaten you?”

Tony nodded, not meeting Bucky’s eyes, “I know it’s stupid but-”

”It’s not stupid. Not to me,” he turned to Pepper and Steve, “he’s going to class. But,” he turned back to Tony and placed a light kiss to his lips, words whisper quiet, “I get the feeling you are taking more classes than you should - remember, I’ve given you your homework before - so don’t go to all of them. Just the ones with me or Steve today, okay? And Herbology with Clint.”

Tony nodded, resting his head against Bucky’s chest. Bucky stroked down his hair, massaging the nape of his neck.

”Hear that?” Bucky asked to the room, “He’ll stick with us. Happy with that?”

Pepper and Steve exchanged a look. Both nodded, still glaring daggers at each other.

”And stop that,” Bucky ordered, both of their expressions shifting to that of a kicked puppy, “it sucks hearing you both fight.”

Bucky linked his arm through Tony’s and marched him out of the room.

 

They headed into the Hufflepuff common room, and then down into the dorms. Bucky dove immediately into his trunk. Tony stood woodenly at the doorway. He didn’t know what to do with himself, swinging his arms back and forth. The Hufflepuff dorms were awesome. Tony secretly thought they were nicer than Ravenclaw but maybe that was because of what he had to deal with in the Ravenclaw dorms. Canary yellow curtains hung from their four poster beds made of dark ebony wood. The floors were ebony as well, but the whole room felt light, partially due to the cream coloured walls. That and the abundance of flora that made the room smell sweet. It felt like he walked into a meadow. He breathed deeply, still waiting at the doorway.

”What are you, a vampire?” Bucky teased lightly, “do I have to invite you in? Make yourself at home, you’ve been here before.”

Tony shrugged. It’s not like he remembered being here. He only knew he had been because Rhodey told him so. He shuffled a little further into the room, standing a a few feet from Bucky’s shoulder.

”What are you looking for?”

”My spare robes,” Bucky answered from inside his trunk, “you can’t wear those to class-”

Tony looked down at what he was wearing. His black and blue robes were, quite frankly, disgusting. There were marks in the blue where blood had stained and some parts were stiff from dried blood. His robes were shredded across his chest and up his arms. But his skin beneath it was clean, not even a fleck of dirt upon him.

”-so if you want you can wear mine while we fix yours. I’m not the best at repairing spells and I think you’re closer to my size than Steve’s, that guy is a behemoth. We managed to clean you up but we didn’t know if you’d feel comfortable with us changing you and all- AHA!”

Success. Bucky pulled out his robes, slightly crumpled from their time in the trunk. Bucky winced, looking at Tony apologetically. Tony took them gratefully. He stripped out of his robes, not caring if Bucky saw. Bucky didn’t see anything, respectfully turning away. Tony arched an eyebrow but stayed silent. He smelled the sleeve of the robes with a small smile. He could smell hot chocolate, just faintly. But there was also a mix of old books and the floral scent that clung to the room. It smelt like Bucky all in all, and that calmed Tony immensely. Bucky led him back outside, meeting Steve along the way. Tony pressed himself against Steve. He didn’t know why he did. He just, he needed them to be close and he couldn’t register them as close unless they were literally right next to him. And he needed Steve. He needed him like the air he breathed. Steve wrapped an arm around him and they walked off to Defence against the Dark Arts. Bucky joined them for the walk but apologised when he had to go. This wasn’t his class after all. But he kissed Steve until he saw stars and he kissed Tony until he felt fireworks. And then he left them both in a dreamy state next to each other.

”Stark, Rogers, inside now.”

Professor Braddock ushered them into the room, Tony slinking into a seat at the back with Steve at his side. They sat down, Tony piling his books on his desk. He needed to catch up on around two weeks of work, so whenever he had a spare second in class, he spent it bent over other textbooks. Steve kept giving him worried glances. But one thing he made sure to do was slide little bits of food into Tony’s reach. Tony would just pick them up and eat it absentmindedly, teeth snapping biscuits and biting into slices of caramel apple. Near the end of class, Steve noticed Tony was shivering. He reached into his bag and pulled out a jumper. The same one from Tony’s love potion fiasco. He carefully pulled it over Tony’s head, maneuvering his arms through the sleeves. The entire time Tony remained fixated on his books. But once the jumper was on him completely, Tony hooked the collar over his nose, hiding the lower half of his face in the fabric.

”Okay, that’s everything for today. Your homework due by Monday is to get rid of the Boggart in the castle I’ve assigned for you.”

Professor Braddock walked through the class, handing out slips of paper with the location of everyone’s individual Boggart. Tony glanced at his. Library. That was fine. He was there often enough. Class ended and he packed up his books, shoving the slip of paper in his pocket.

 

He walked with Steve, eyes darting around. He could see Rumlow and Fisk watching him, talking to each other, laughing.  But they left him alone, walking the opposite way to him. So Tony slipped his hand into Steve’s and kept his eyes glued to the ground as they walked. Steve had been watching carefully, wand clasped visibly in his hand. The unspoken threat seemed enough to keep Rumlow and Fisk at bay, neither venturing close. As they walked off, Steve watched them until they were out of sight. 

”So what class do you have next?” Steve asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Tony mumbled his answer at the floor, fingers tightening against Steve’s. Steve squeezed gently back, tapping out the tune to Star Wars on Tony’s palm.

”Didn’t catch a word of that,” Steve laughed and it sounded forced, even to his own ears.

Tony flinched slightly, “sorry, sorry, herbology, I have herbology.”

Steve stopped them walking, cupping Tony’s face in his hands, “you don’t have anything to apologise for, okay?” Steve kissed the tip of his nose.

Tony looked up, going cross-eyed at the action as he tried to follow Steve’s movement.

”Sorry,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze again.

Steve kissed him on the top of the head before repeating reassurances again.

”Is Pepper in your Herbology?”

Tony shook his head, “no, just Clint is. That’s okay, right?”

”Of course it is,” Steve grinned, before frowning slightly, “you don’t need to ask me for permission you know?”

”Sorry.”

Steve felt like he was messing up constantly, just making Tony feel worse and worse. He didn’t know what would be more helpful, him leaving and not making Tony feel awful or staying and being a physical presence for him. But as he walked Tony to the greenhouses, Tony’s grip in his never loosened. Tony gave him a clear answer in a silent way.

 

Clint was waiting for them when they arrived, giving them a cheerful wave at their approach before walking to meet them.

“Heya, how was things?”

Tony returned the wave with a small one of his own, face finally relaxing out of the stiff expression it had held.

“Fine,” Steve replied, but Clint gave him an odd look and threw his arm around Tony’s shoulders.

Tony flinched slightly at the impact but otherwise didn’t comment. Clint gave Steve a sheepish look, before whispering a quiet apology to Tony.

“We should probably head inside, Professor Longbottom is going to be waiting for us.”

 

The class was quiet, based around theory with minimal practice work. Tony had finished the work set in the first half an hour, now working on reading through the chapters he’d missed in Potions. Clint, sat opposite Tony, completely ignoring the work he was meant to be doing. Instead he was faced with a puzzle. Tony’s memory seemed so intent that this was meant to mean something; that it was worthy of Clint needing to memorise it. So here he was, writing Tony’s name over and over again, as close as he could make it to the letters he found. Tony glanced up for a second, more to confirm Clint was still there as someone nearby laughed loudly.

“What are you drawing?” Tony asked quietly.

He was hunched down, shoulders close to his ears and knees tucked up to his chest. He couldn’t have been comfortable like that. But that wasn’t Clint’s call to make. Clint flipped the scrap of parchment around, showing Tony.

Tony blinked at it before opening his mouth, only to slowly close it again. Finally he said- “what?”

“What what?”

“Why are you writing my name over and over again?”

“I want to marry you, and I’m seeing if your name will go with mine,” Clint answered with a grin and a wink.

Tony replied to the easy flirting with a tiny smile, happy to play along with the game. Herbology was one of the few classes he had without the presence of Hammer and Co.

“I think that’s meant to be last names.”

Clint shrugged, “Yeah but you’re Tony. The rest of it isn’t you.”

Tony dropped his gaze, frowning, “not anymore,” he muttered, tone sour.

Damn, sore subject. Clint, pushed the paper forward, looking for a change of topic, “recognise the writing?”

Tony shook his head, glancing around at the people around him, “It’s your writing isn’t it?”

“Someone told me you would recognise this handwriting.”

“I don’t though, who said I would?”

His tone was conversation but there as something pulling at it, dragging his voice in clipped sentences and carefully chosen words.

“It doesn’t matter. I just thought you might.”

“You’re writing it weirdly, I used to write like that when I was three,” Tony replied scathingly, shoulders stiff and jaw clenched.

“Anyone else copy you?”

“I used to insist everyone wrote my name that way,” Tony was frowning at his papers now, looking for all the world like this was his most humiliating memory, “like it was my signature or something. Howard told me to cut it out when I was three and a bit months, so I did.”

Clint nodded, not saying anything else. So Tony didn’t have a clue. Great.

 

He couldn’t breathe. His name, written so… pathetically. Last time he saw it written that way, the ink had been spotted with water - his tears. He’d been three years, four months, one week, and three days old, trying to write his first letter to his mother. Exactly four months, one week, and two days after she left. She… had to go. That’s all Howard had ever told him. She had to go, because she cared more about cleaning up dragon dung and getting stung by billywigs than she did her own family. That Tony was more work than taking on a Nundu alone. So after he cried at hearing those bitter words spewed at him, Howard took his letter and burnt it to cinders. And if Clint knew to write his name that way, he must have seen that memory. And he couldn’t breathe. He just stopped, frozen in that memory. Sat cross-legged on one of Howard’s expensive and foreign rugs, holding his quill in his fist, ink dripping on the parchment. Howard had been working and Tony just wanted his company. It was better than the silence and emptiness of every other room in the house.

“Mr Stark,” a kind, quiet voice that didn’t have a place in his father’s drawing room, “are you feeling okay?”

Clint looked up from his work to see Professor Longbottom crouched next to Tony, voice low and soothing. Tony was completely still, quill poised in the air, a bead of ink slowly dripping off onto the desk below. Professor Longbottom glanced up to see Clint watching.

“If you could take Mr Stark outside for a moment, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Clint vaulted the workbench and carefully eased Tony from his seat. For all his stillness, he seemed willing to move when guided. So Clint hooked an arm around Tony’s shoulder and it all would have looked normal if not for Tony staring at the air in front of his eyes.

 

They were sat on a bench just outside the greenhouse. Tony was vibrating with tension, body held like stone the moment he was seated again. Clint was sat next to Tony, trying to get his friend to breathe. He managed to get a few shuddered breathes, interspersed in the midst of long silences. But that was all. Tony wasn’t answering his questions. Didn’t seem to acknowledge he was there at all. A few moments and Professor Longbottom joined them on the bench.

“Mr Stark, can you nod for yes and shake for no?”

Tony shivered, blinked, but then gave a small nod.

“Do you know what triggered you?”

Again a small nod.

“Want to talk about it?”

A shake, aggressive protest to the idea of sharing his horrors.

“Would you feel better on your own for a moment?”

A shake of the head, swift and decisive.

“Is there anything I can do in the classroom to avoid this happening again?”

Tony shrugged, non-committal. He couldn’t answer that, “It just sort of happened. Sorry, I’m stupid, sorry.”

The professor shook his head, denying the recriminations, “You aren’t stupid. What you are experiencing is a normal reaction to what you had to go through.”

Tony nodded mutely, staring at his lap with his hands neatly resting on his knees.

“Mr Barton, if you would be so kind as to gather both yours and Mr Stark’s belongings and to take them to my office and wait there. We will join you shortly.”

“And what about class?” Tony asked, mumbling his way through the words.

“They’ll survive for a lesson.”


End file.
